Abstract
This article highlights the personal and intellectual relationship between Bronisław Malinowski and Edvard Westermarck. In the interwar period, social anthropology went through a paradigm shift from evolutionism to functionalism. Malinowski put himself forward as a reformer, in contrast with Westermarck's more conservative and conciliatory approach. On the other hand, Malinowski always deferred to Westermarck and described himself as his disciple. Westermarck was Malinowski's teacher, his friend, and later his colleague at the London School of Economics. Our study of their personal and intellectual exchanges questions the traditional perception of a sudden intellectual revolution in social anthropology. The paradigm shift was essentially a change of perspective: a refocusing away from cross-cultural comparisons and towards intensive local studies. Westermarck, as a pioneer of fieldwork, contributed substantially to that development. His notion of social origins was close to Malinowski's notion of function. Thanks to their friendship and constant exchange of ideas, Westermarck became the bridge that connected evolutionism to Malinowski's brand of functionalism. Our chief primary source is their correspondence, with additional material by Westermarck's Finnish contacts.
Introduction
During the interwar period, social anthropology went through a paradigm shift, moving from evolutionism to functionalism. Famously, Bronisław Malinowski (1884–1942) was a driving force in that reorientation. This article highlights the relation between Malinowski and Edvard (Edward) Westermarck (1862–1939), his teacher and friend. Malinowski put himself forward as a revolutionary, in contrast with Westermarck's more conservative leanings. On the other hand, he described himself as Westermarck's disciple. They collaborated closely at London School of Economics and Political Science (LSE). Their correspondence attests to a friendship and a constant exchange of ideas. An intellectual paradigm shift is always the outcome of many agents cooperating, agreeing, and disagreeing. Personal and intellectual relationships, including competition within Malinowski's own generation, are part of this dynamic mixture.
Edvard Westermarck's research had three major themes, summed up in a number of extensive volumes: the history of marriage, sexuality, and the family (1891, new edition 1921); the nature, origin, and development of morality (1906–8); and popular religion and folk tradition in Morocco (1926). In his theoretical orientation, Westermarck's approach was known as evolutionism, which implied the need of a comparative method. The research subject of this kind of ‘classical’ anthropology was, in principle, all of humanity. The idea was to find the origins of human cultural expressions and to track their development through history and prehistory. Initially, evolutionist anthropology was based mainly on historical documents and contemporary travelogues. Different ‘stages’ of culture would be classified and compared, while contemporary ‘savages’ in the colonies would represent the earliest stages. The leading light in the field was Sir James George Frazer (1854–1941), known for his 12-volume work The Golden Bough (1906–15).
While Westermarck voiced explicit disagreement with Frazer on some issues (see Westermarck, 2014[1936]: 197; 1906–8: Vol. 1, 444–51; 1926: Vol. 1, 20–1), his early monographs (1891, 1906–8) followed the typical format that Frazer and other evolutionists had established. Nevertheless, his general take on evolution was different from Frazer's. For Frazer, as for early evolutionists generally, the theory of biological evolution was a source of inspiration, as they hoped to accomplish something similar in the realm of cultural evolution. According to Frazer, civilisation went through a teleological, linear progression from magic through religion to science. In contrast, Westermarck engaged with Darwinism directly (for detail, including the early development of Westermarck's theory, see Pipatti, 2019). He argued that human psychology was the outcome of natural selection processes. With regard to evolution, his interest in historical developments was subservient to his quest for underlying, universally human instincts. As we argue below, in some respects this approach to social origins already had similarities with functionalism.
Social anthropology was an emerging discipline, still in search of its institutional forms. The introduction of social sciences at LSE was a milestone (Dahrendorf, 1995). Westermarck was hired there in 1904 to teach ‘sociology’. He combined his teaching in London with a number of positions in his home country, holding professorships in Helsinki (1906–18) and Åbo (1918–32). During Westermarck's tenure in London as a part-time professor (1907–30), most future social anthropologists in Great Britain and the Commonwealth became his students. Through instruction and example, Westermarck introduced many research practices now regarded as standard. Among these were the requirements that social anthropologists should do fieldwork, spend considerable time in the target societies, and learn the local languages. The fieldworker should enter the community via a network of local informants. Westermarck established his initial contacts in Morocco in 1898. The Great War cut him off from the country for some years, but Westermarck returned in 1923, subsequently spending part of the year regularly in Tangier up to his death in 1939.
Meanwhile, the theory of social anthropology was developing. Malinowski's ‘new’ or ‘functionalist’ anthropology implied a break with the classical school. The idea was no longer to pick a universal cultural phenomenon (the family, magical beliefs, religion, etc.) and to reconstruct its development; instead, the focus would be on individual societies and their present. Economic structure, family, religion, art, and technology were all connected, contributing to the unique form of life of each individual society.
Malinowski generally liked to pose as a revolutionary with no intellectual debts to pay. Posterity has largely adopted this narrative—to the degree that, as David Shankland has quipped (2014b: 19), most presentations today divide the history of anthropology into two periods: AM and PM, ante Malinowski and post Malinowski. Yet even in 1937, Malinowski described Westermarck as the one ‘to whose personal teaching and to whose work I owe more than to any other scientific influence’ (Malinowski, 1937, quoted in Firth, 1960: 5).
The Pole Malinowski, who entered British academia in 1910 as an outsider, managed to force its gates thanks to his good relationship with the Finn Westermarck. Westermarck's support was important to him both professionally and emotionally. In 1914, Malinowski set out for an extended research trip to Melanesia—a trip that laid the groundwork for his future success. The war intervened, and Malinowski returned to England only in 1920. Once more, he could count on support from his former supervisor.
Malinowski's academic breakthrough was his Argonauts of the Western Pacific of 1922, the first major fruit of his field trip. He was a rising star, while Westermarck's star had reached its zenith. Westermarck had just published his new edition of The History of Human Marriage, trying to bolster his earlier results with new data. After that point, Westermarck increasingly devoted his time to his work on Morocco.
Research questions
We wish to consider two questions. First, how viable is the idea of a definite break between Westermarck's ‘classical’ and Malinowski's ‘new’ anthropology, given the fact that Malinowski was also Westermarck's student? Our second question is how the two researchers coped with their hybrid relation of friendship and competition. In this context, personal and academic relations intertwine, and we need to devote some space to personal anecdotes. In terms of anthropological theory and practice, it is possible to trace continuities between Westermarck and Malinowski, but they were also aware of their many differences. We cannot assume that theoretical affinities were the only factor that brought them together. Thanks to their personal chemistry, they were able to cooperate and to learn from each other.
Westermarck and Malinowski come across as rather different individuals. Westermarck's contemporaries universally described him as friendly, urbane, and lovable. 1 Judging from his letters and memoirs, he also appears somewhat formal, wary of strong emotions and commitments. Malinowski, in contrast, looks like a person with strong likes and dislikes, not afraid of conflict. In fact, it seems he held this trait in common with Finnish philosopher Rolf Lagerborg (1874–1959), a student of Westermarck’s who became perhaps his closest friend apart from his sister. Lagerborg insisted that sociology was ‘art’ and not ‘engineering’. 2 In his later years, Westermarck engaged in considerable headhunting on behalf of his Finnish university. He always had a soft spot for talented outsiders with unconventional ideas (Lagerspetz and Suolinna, 2014: 87–8).
The first volume of Michael W. Young's meticulous biography of Malinowski (2004) offers the most detailed account possible of Malinowski's early contacts with Westermarck, unfortunately stopping at the year 1920. Lagerspetz and Suolinna (2014: 61–8) also describe Westermarck's relation with Malinowski. When it comes to more narrowly intellectual influences, the material is limited, but on the increase. Knut Pipping (1976) and Raymond Firth (1981) were early to discuss the two anthropologists as developers of fieldwork methods. More recently, Ihanus (2014) presents a detailed account of their reactions to sexology and psychoanalysis. David Shankland has recently, in several insightful papers (2014a, 2014b, 2019, 2022), sought to do justice to Westermarck's influence on Malinowski, as well as on British anthropology as a whole. Still, the topic certainly deserves additional study.
The most important primary source for this article is Westermarck's correspondence with Malinowski. The Westermarck Collection at Åbo Akademi University Library includes 28 letters and postcards from Malinowski. They cover the years 1911–14 and, with a break during Malinowski's field trip, 1920–36. 3 The most important collections of Malinowski's Nachlaß are housed at Yale and LSE. 4 We have had access to Westermarck's letters to Malinowski at Yale, six of them altogether. We have also used Malinowski's seminar notes from LSE. 5
We proceed chronologically, alternating between personal history and presentations of methodological and theoretical challenges of the time—questions that the two anthropologists had to consider.
Westermarck and Malinowski: The early years
Bronisław Malinowski arrived at LSE in the spring of 1910, probably on the suggestion of Alfred Cort Haddon (1855–1940), an anthropologist at Cambridge with contacts at LSE (Young, 2004: 168). Westermarck's support was crucial in these first years. Malinowski sent him a letter in 1911, with thanks for his help in securing a grant, but above all for his emotional support. 6 He returns 10 years later to thank Westermarck for his help in the past, ‘when I was quite alone & unbefriended in London’. 7
Malinowski and Westermarck seem to have hit it off immediately (Young, 2004: 173, 176). ‘Mali’ was something of a prankster, a human quality that Westermarck seems generally to have appreciated. An intriguing piece of information from a later time is included in a letter by Margaret Gardiner to Knut Pipping.
8
She describes Malinowski running about the house, chasing a visiting young Dutchwoman for a kiss, and giving instructions to a colleague on ‘how to acquire a native mistress’. In his reminiscences, Raymond Firth (1960: 1–2) describes Malinowski as an engaging personality. He was loyal to friends and later to students, but he could be nasty to those who put him off. Anna-Mi Borenius, née Runeberg, remembers in an interview from 1970, He [Malinowski] was against self-importance and reacted at once if people puffed themselves up—he did not suffer fools gladly—he could be cruel in order to be funny. He did quarrel with certain people. She [Borenius] thinks he felt the English were childish, naive, didn’t have wider viewpoint (this applies more to the early days before first war).
9
Malinowski contributed in the autumn of 1912 to Westermarck's Festschrift. The chapter was his first major publication in anthropology in English. The topic was the economic aspects of the Australian Intichiuma ceremony (Malinowski, 1912). This ritual had become a focus of anthropological attention. The central source of information was W. B. Spencer and F. J. Gillen's book (1899) on Central Australian totemism, specifically among the Arunta. Malinowski, however, had a new perspective on it. He noted that the Intichiuma required elaborate preparation with intensive work, including food rationing and a division of labour otherwise absent in the society. Magic of this kind was, in other words, of direct relevance to the tribal economy, quite independently of the content of its ideas or its validity as a world view.
The essay, published before Malinowski set out for his first field trip, already demonstrated some features typical of his mature work. He proposed a kind of functional analysis, even though he did not use the word at the time. The interplay of culture with the division of labour and the economy are, of course, central themes of functionalist anthropology. Malinowski made similar observations 10 years later in his Argonauts of the Western Pacific (1922a). The ritual exchange of gifts in Melanesia, known as kula, required extensive preparation, forging a unifying link between islands.
Malinowski's first English book, The Family Among the Australian Aborigines, came out in 1913 in the LSE series (Malinowski, 1913), with the help of Westermarck's recommendation for funding. 11 In a letter to Westermarck, Malinowski considered various problems with getting the new series started. It would be a ‘nuisance’, he said, to include Westermarck's colleague L. T. Hobhouse ‘and all the lot’ in the series. 12 After less than two years of acquaintance, Westermarck and Malinowski were busy plotting against a colleague of Westermarck's. Once the book was out, Westermarck (1913) wrote an encouraging review. Malinowski responded with a letter of thanks and later by reviewing Westermarck's books (Malinowski, 1922b, 1927a). 13
Malinowski set out for his field trip to Melanesia in 1914. Once again, Haddon provided the impulse, together with his colleagues Marett and Seligman, who also helped with the funding (Young, 2004: 245–6). The idea was that he would add to the information from their earlier expedition, providing data from adjacent areas. ‘Mali's’ last postcard from Europe was an affectionate greeting to Westermarck: ‘I am bidding farewell to Europe today & I want to send you this card in order to show you that I am thinking of you at this moment!… With many kind thoughts of gratitude and affection.’ 14
The sojourn in the Antipodes was longer than expected. Malinowski returned to Europe only in the spring of 1920. The war may have been a contributing reason (however, see Kuper, 1973: 12), but he had, in any event, planned for a prolonged stay in Melanesia. 15 ‘Mali’ had promised to write back from Melanesia, but no letters to Westermarck exist in the collections—perhaps he never did write, or perhaps the letters never reached the addressee (who generally seems to have saved his correspondence in perfect order). Westermarck and Malinowski re-established contact in 1920, after a hiatus of several years.
The 1920s saw a reset of the research questions and methods of anthropology. Malinowski was actively pursuing it, while Westermarck was on the defensive.
The 1920s: Westermarck and the mounting criticism
Criticism of Westermarck's theoretical framework came from three quarters: (a) advocates of the territorially limited monograph as the best form of anthropological research, (b) functionalism, and (c) psychoanalysis. Westermarck's response to the first challenge was to go along with it and substantially contribute to it, even though he insisted on the ideal of a comparative synthesis as the end goal. Westermarck's reaction to the two other challenges, especially the Freudian one, was one of polemic and rejection.
The first point, the idea that anthropology needs to gain depth through studies of individual societies, gained traction when actual field studies began to be available. A. C. Haddon was among those who raised this point early on, though without specifically criticising Westermarck. Haddon, originally a biologist, had made an effort to establish anthropology as a subject at Cambridge, although he never gained the full support of his own university (Leach, 1983: 5–6). With Cambridge as his base, in 1898 he organised the multidisciplinary Torres Strait Expedition (Rouse, 1998). Expedition members not only interviewed the locals and collected artefacts, but also took anatomical and psychological measurements, created documents with the newly invented cinematograph and re-enacted ceremonies previously suppressed by the local Christian congregation. Haddon and Westermarck remained in close contact over the years. Another member of the expedition, C. G. Seligman (1873–1940), later came to LSE as a colleague to Westermarck and Malinowski.
The experience at Torres Strait was formative of Haddon's views on the tasks of anthropology. His ambition there was the total mapping of a culture seemingly heading for extinction. In a letter to Westermarck in 1908, Haddon included a summary of what was needed: geographically limited, but intensive studies. He contrasted in-depth studies with random accounts by travellers. Haddon never mentioned the fact that exactly such random accounts had constituted Westermarck's main data for The History of Human Marriage and The Origin and Development of the Moral Ideas: The time has passed when students were satisfied with general accounts of native races made by the passing traveller or the untrained and frequently unsympathetic observer. Our watchword must now be ‘the intensive study of limited areas’. We require to know all the conditions of existence of a given people,—how the environment affects them; how they react on it. But above all we need an accurate and exhaustive study of the psychology, sociology and religion of the people studied.
16
The insight was gradual. Westermarck appears initially to have been unsure of what his main task would be in Morocco. His first research interest was not Morocco, but morality and religion as such. When he travelled from Tangier to Tétouan in early 1899, he had seven mules to carry his papers and almost his entire philosophical library. 17 Later, he learned to see popular religion in Morocco as a subject in its own right. In Westermarck's studies, Morocco comes across as a society where religious or magical concepts intertwine with every aspect of social life. Westermarck focused especially on two concepts: baraka, or ‘holiness’, ‘blessing’; and l-‘âr, which he interpreted as ‘conditional curse’. Both concepts come across as tools of personal relations and status competition. The wealth of Westermarck's material would allow us to connect them to a larger political dynamic, but Westermarck did not pursue that connection (see Lagerspetz and Suolinna, 2017).
Westermarck understood at an early stage how important it was to learn the local languages. His colleague at Helsinki, Fridolf Gustafsson, actually warned his friend against exaggerated ‘linguistic detours’. 18 Malinowski, too, laid stress on effortless communication with locals, while Haddon's team had relied on Pidgin and interpreters. Pipping asks whether Malinowski in fact got his insight from Westermarck (Pipping, 1976: 37; see also Firth, 1981: 123; Shankland, 2022: 135–6).
In his memoirs, Westermarck said he understood the drawbacks of the comparative method without others having to tell him (Westermarck, 1927: 404; 1929: 300). Large-scale syntheses would require command of a vast amount of material. The main risk was that of superficiality: sweeping comparisons might cut the individual observations off ‘from their organic whole’, that is, from the local culture (Westermarck, 1927: 402; 1929: 298–9). Westermarck's solution was that field researchers should write monographs that might later provide the data for a broader synthesis.
Functionalism and Freudianism
Westermarck's attitude to functionalism was not equally gracious. The first influential criticism of his comparative method came in Émile Durkheim's review of The Origin and Development of the Moral Ideas in 1907. Durkheim and his brand of functionalism subsequently remained a source of irritation to Westermarck. Durkheim wrote, Every time he [Westermarck] presents a claim, he cites examples from most various societies. He is above all busy with amassing facts.… In quick and raving succession, he refers to the Aleuts, peoples of the Gold Coast, in Madagascar, China, Greece, etc.… Not even a criticism of the documents is possible: they reach us through so many different hands that they must simply be received as offered. (Durkheim, 1907: 385; our translation)
Westermarck's initial response to functionalism was to dismiss it as a local French invention. He loved to point out that Durkheim was generalising from a meagre factual basis. Durkheim (1912) relied almost completely on just one example, Central Australian totemism, for his theory of the function of religion in society (Westermarck, 2014[1936]: 195). In Finland, Westermarck's friend Lagerborg had shown an early interest in Durkheim (see Lagerborg, 1953). In the 1920s, the English also started to take functionalism seriously. A. F. Radcliffe-Brown (1881–1955) was a British anthropologist who consciously developed Durkheim's ideas in the interwar period. But Malinowski, too, gradually developed his own brand of functionalism.
Westermarck now had to back down to some extent. Marcel Mauss, Durkheim's nephew and the then leader of French functionalism, visited the University of London (incorporating LSE) in 1928. In his welcoming presidential address, Westermarck deigned at least to pay lip service to the idea that ‘English’ and ‘French’ sociology should learn from each other in a spirit of ‘entente cordiale’ (Lagerborg, 1953: 19–20). 19
With Freudianism, Westermarck never sought this kind of half-hearted détente. Sigmund Freud also showed interest in Central Australian totemism, which he, like Durkheim, saw as a prototype of ‘our own’ (European) early development (Freud, 1946[1912–13]: 3). Anthropological considerations in Freud's Totem und Tabu were based on his idiosyncratic interpretation of classical comparative texts (for detail, see Ihanus, 2014: 29–31). The beginnings of human culture lay in the introduction of taboo, the earliest form of which was the prohibition of incest. Freud's theory implied an attack on Westermarck, because it counted on a primitive incestuous impulse. In contrast, Westermarck's theory had explained the prohibition of incest with the claim that incestuous relations naturally give rise to aversion. Most people harbour a genetically determined aversion against sexual relations with people with whom they have lived together as children.
Westermarck considered Freud's theory speculative and confused. In a letter to his friend Lagerborg, he dismissed its ‘monstrosities’. 20 It was no doubt an emotional burden for him to see both Lagerborg and Malinowski showing interest in psychoanalysis. Westermarck was later relieved to note, in a letter to Lagerborg, that Malinowski's ‘Freudianism’ had just been ‘a brief flirtation’. 21 In fact, however, Malinowski continued to follow the psychoanalytic debate closely. Later on, he even contacted Freud personally (Ihanus, 2014: 28–9).
Westermarck was then writing his book Three Essays on Sex and Marriage (1934). It included his response to Freud's theory of incest. However, the longest essay in Three Essays was Westermarck's defence against Robert Briffault (1874–1948). Briffault's frontal attack on Westermarck (Briffault, 1927) had resurrected the old idea of primitive matriarchy, questioning Westermarck's data in The History of Human Marriage. In this fight, Westermarck and Malinowski stood united. In a letter to Malinowski in 1933, Westermarck agreed that Freud was, at the very least, ‘honest’, while dismissing Briffault as a lightweight and a fraud. 22 Malinowski agreed in his reply to Westermarck. 23
Westermarck and Malinowski: Contact re-established
Malinowski's situation was precarious when he returned to England in the spring of 1920, with a pregnant wife. They first stayed at the Seligmans’ in Oxford. C. G. Seligman had been important for Malinowski in the early years at LSE (Firth, 1960: 5). Now Malinowski had no money and he had health problems.
On the bright side, Malinowski now had manuscript material to last him through several books. A letter indicates that Malinowski and Westermarck were planning to publish the book on kula (the future Argonauts) in the series of Åbo Academy, Westermarck's Finnish university. 24 The final publisher was Routledge, no doubt a wise choice. An introduction by the famous Frazer was secured. Haddon immediately wrote a glowing review in Nature (1922).
Upon his return to England, Malinowski wrote and reminded Westermarck of their old friendship. The war had destroyed many things, but the two of them were still of one mind about ‘almost everything’: I am very conservative in my friendships & I value yours very highly for many reasons, not the [sic] least because our scientific & general ideas & aims are very much in harmony. The war has spoilt & distroyed [sic] many things & many personal relationships. But as we two have as similar ideas & feelings about almost everything, why should we be brought one inch apart?
25
Westermarck mentions Malinowski only once in his memoirs. ‘The Pole Bronislaw Malinowski—now a famous anthropologist and my highly esteemed colleague’ is listed among the guests at Westermarck's home in Boxhill, Surrey, in the 1910s (Westermarck, 1927: 336; our translation). A conventional memoir—and Westermarck's book surely belongs to this genre—would of course typically focus on acquaintances of the author's own or a previous generation. Westermarck is generally cautious with comments on personal relationships. His letters, however, show that their positive feelings were mutual. In a rare show of personal emotion, Westermarck interprets Malinowski's good review of his Ritual and Belief in Morocco (Malinowski, 1927a) in light of their friendship: I can assure you that it gave me immense joy, and I should be glad if my books deserved even half the praise you bestow on them. We cannot help that our judgments are more or less influenced by our emotions. So I have to thank you both for what you have said and for what you feel.
28
Year 1922 marks the beginning of Malinowski's academic fame. Joint efforts by colleagues (Westermarck and Seligman) secured him a position at LSE, first as a lecturer in 1922, later as a reader in 1923, and as a professor in 1927. Argonauts (Malinowski, 1922a) got a sequel in Sex and Repression in Savage Society (Malinowski, 1927b) and The Sexual Life of Savages in North-Western Melanesia (Malinowski, 1932; first edition published in 1929). Malinowski continued to develop his theoretical position. By 1932 he was ready to assert himself as the real founder of the functionalist school in anthropology (Malinowski, 1932: xxix–xxxi).
With his position secured, Malinowski could afford to reconsider old loyalties. Raymond Firth notes that Malinowski, in his earlier work, often included acknowledgements to Seligman. They were ‘close’ but later ‘grew apart’—according to Firth, because of disagreement about the goals of anthropology (Firth, 1960: 5). It is also possible that Malinowski wanted to erase his intellectual debt to his predecessors. Haddon writes to Westermarck that only three anthropologists (ethnologists) seemed to exist in Malinowski's lectures: Malinowski himself, A. Radcliffe-Brown, and the German Richard Thurnwald. 29 Haddon had been an early supporter, introducing Malinowski to British anthropologists, but no close relationship grew out of it; Malinowski's temperament was ‘too difficult’ for Haddon (Rouse, 1998: 71–2).
Malinowski was a charismatic leader, but he could also come across as manipulative (Dahrendorf, 1995: 249). Malinowski had a tendency ‘to romanticize the discipline [and] the process of fieldwork’ (Shankland, 2022: 136). ‘Everything Malinowski touched bore the stamp of personality’, was the verdict of Westermarck's student Ragnar Numelin in his introductory book (1947: 198; our translation). Rafael Karsten was one of those who were not impressed. He wrote to Numelin, I must stick to my judgement of Malinowski. M was an intelligent man, but in him, there was a certain degree of bluff and showmanship—perhaps having to do with his Slavic heritage—which could not get my sympathies. And he generalises and theoretises far too much in his work. Why would you, e.g., call a work Crime and Custom in Savage Society when you are just talking about the Trobriands?
30
Westermarck and Malinowski continued discussing their relations with colleagues. Malinowski pleaded in a 1924 letter to Westermarck for support for his (Westermarck's) ‘admirer’, Morris Ginsberg, when a reader was to be hired: For the School of Sociology to which I as your pupil, follower, admirer belong, it would be nothing short of a disaster if Ginsberg were not appointed reader. He admires your work immensely.
31
Westermarck and Malinowski also discussed Westermarck's former student, Rafael Karsten—a more problematic case from Westermarck's point of view. 34 Their relationship soured when Karsten published his magnum opus, The Civilization of the South American Indians (1926). The work highlighted Westermarck's and Karsten's theoretical differences. Westermarck was conciliatory as usual, but Karsten gave him the cold shoulder (for detail, see Lagerspetz and Suolinna, 2014: 60–1).
Joint seminars in the 1920s
Westermarck enjoyed working with Malinowski in London. He would attend his seminars in the capacity of a student, and Malinowski would return the favour. ‘You are inspiring all of us’, Westermarck wrote.
35
Many participants would later make their mark on the academic world (Montagu, 1982: 65). Westermarck encouraged his Finnish students to visit the department at LSE. He wrote to Lagerborg in the summer of 1929, I have been particularly happy with my seminars. We treated questions concerning family, marriage, and sexual relations of various kinds. The first presentation was by Malinowski, who has constantly been my faithful supporter.
36
Westermarck mentioned several visiting (male) students from Finland, but for some reason, he omitted Hilma Granqvist, later known internationally for her in-depth study of a Palestinian village. At the time, Granqvist had already spent considerable time in Artas, in the vicinity of Bethlehem. She was writing her PhD dissertation for Helsinki, but her supervisor Landtman considered her subject too limited and the work too ‘descriptive’. Granqvist had decided to stay in a single village and to forgo the ‘temptation’ of comparative studies (Granqvist, 1931: 4). She would quote her interviewees directly, allowing them to speak with their distinctive voices and making the reader feel part of the fieldwork situation. Granqvist's focus on a single community burned her bridges to Landtman (for detail, see Pipatti, 2023: 269–74; Suolinna, 2000). She found herself sidelined, both as a woman and as someone who did not follow her supervisor's instructions. She contacted Westermarck, who invited her to his seminars. Granqvist wrote to Westermarck's sister Helena, I am happy to be in a position to participate in his [Westermarck’s] seminar exercises. As the participants are not only young students but also the more advanced, as well as the really knowledgeable, such as Prof. Malinowski, they acquire quite a different value from those back home, where it was the professor instructing pupils. Prof. Westermarck, who has been very friendly and gracious, said at once he wanted to acquaint me with said Prof. Malinowsky [sic]. ‘If you can win him over, you would have a much higher authority to lean on’, uttered Prof. Westermarck.
37
At the seminars, both French influences and psychoanalysis were gradually getting visible when Malinowski took over. It did not lead to any kind of open conflict, however, thanks to Malinowski's conscious deference to Westermarck.
We do not have notes from the seminar of 1929, but the LSE Archive preserves Malinowski's disposition for the seminar in the previous year. 38 This seminar also concerned the family and sexuality. The seminar theme for 30 May 1928 was the origin of the incest prohibition. Malinowski presented Westermarck's theory, based on the idea that the prohibition was based on natural aversion. He agreed with Westermarck that the prohibition is not normally seen as a limitation on what we would otherwise want to do: ‘That such law not is a burden, important. I do not regard it as a burden that I cannot homosex. or marry my grandmother.’ 39
Malinowski looked for the ‘origins’ of the incest prohibition in family dynamics. He addressed the question further in a sheet fastened on the seminar notes with a paperclip. 40 The relation between parents and children is difficult as it is, but if incest was part of the picture, ‘each family would degenerate into the hell of a brothel’.
The argument is identical to the one in Malinowski's then recent book Sex and Repression in Savage Society (1927b: 244–52). The relationship between parents and children is characterised by dependence, respect, and subordination, while the relationship of siblings implies protection and cooperation. 41 Mutual support and intimacy would be impossible in an atmosphere of sexual rivalry. Incest must be excluded in any human society, due to the simple fact that human beings, as opposed to other animals, continue living with their parents after puberty. Incest would give rise to emotional chaos and a violent shift of roles at a point when the family is decisive for the individual's further socialisation (ibid.: 251).
Malinowski's view on the incest prohibition is different from Westermarck's, because it takes account of the family dynamics and not just of individual psychology. On the other hand, he agrees with Westermarck that the explanation must be sought in the biological and psychological human condition—looking not for past events, but at conditions in the present. He capitalises on Westermarck's understanding of the family as the crucial interface between biology and social life.
Malinowski's explanation of the incest prohibition also differs from Durkheim's. Durkheim, he says, explains the prohibition as a consequence of ‘fear of spilling the blood of the totem—[Totem = God = Society] Then the fear of having connection with a member of your community’.
42
But Durkheim does not establish any connection between this and any other social institution. The rule of functional analysis must, according to Malinowski, be that a prohibition has a connection with a wider cultural scheme: All such rules as prohibition of incest hang together, form an organically coordinated scheme. Hence a rule wh[ich] appears arbitrary, [does so because it is] not associated with the workings of an institution, not explained, not placed within the scheme of culture.… Functional explanations really aim at a full description (grasping) knowledge of cultural phenomena & at an understanding of their connections.
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Explanation is, in other words, nothing more and nothing less than a full description. When the place of a phenomenon in the culture is made clear, it has also been explained. A further example comes in the form of a critique of Frazer's view on magic. Frazer derives magic from an original ‘legislative act’. But such an original act does not account for the contribution of magic to culture in the present: ‘Function’ as ‘survival value’ as ‘origins’.—In this, only in this sense can I use term origins. 44
The 1930s: The concepts of survival and origin
Westermarck retired from LSE in 1930 and from his Finnish university, Åbo Academy (Åbo Akademi University), in 1932. He understood that his works were beginning to look old-fashioned. In a letter to Malinowski, he expressed the hope that they would survive him at least a few years ‘before sinking into oblivion’. 45 In the 1930s, he apparently tried to consolidate his intellectual heritage by summing it up in theoretical presentations. These years saw the publication of Ethical Relativity (Westermarck, 1932), Three Essays on Sex and Marriage (Westermarck, 1934), and, most importantly for the present context, ‘Methods in Social Anthropology’ (Westermarck, 2014[1936]).
In the autumn of 1936, Westermarck delivered his last major lecture, ‘Methods in Social Anthropology’, to the Royal Anthropological Institute in London. He arranged to meet Malinowski in the preceding summer to discuss the lecture theme and to borrow literature. 46 We read in the letter of thanks, ‘I thank you very much for lending me the books, which I found useful for my forthcoming lecture. Not less useful was the long talk I had with you. It was a treat indeed to see you again.’ 47
Westermarck used this prestigious occasion, the Huxley Memorial Lecture, to stake out his position with regard to major theoretical developments. He did not openly distance himself from his predecessors, but the lecture includes some quite obvious indications of his differences with classical evolutionist theory.
Westermarck raised the question how to understand the notion of origins in social anthropology. One possibility was to look for the origins of social institutions in their historical spread from one society to the other (Westermarck, 2014[1936]: 192). Rituals could be interpreted as ‘survivals’ from an earlier context where they might have had a completely different ideational content. Westermarck urged caution if there was no documentation. Freudianism went astray precisely because of its speculative use of the idea of survivals. Psychoanalysts would interpret traditions and rituals uncritically as traces of a distant past, now suppressed, when incest was generally practised (ibid.: 190). Against this, Westermarck claimed that anthropology certainly studied the origins of social institutions, but mainly in the sense of their ‘causes’. By ‘causes’, he meant identifiable psychological needs and tendencies in the present (ibid.: 191, 196).
Westermarck notes once more the weightiest objection against comparative method: it risks divorcing data from the ‘organic whole’ of society (Westermarck, 2014[1936]: 193). As a remedy, comparative studies need complementary monographs on specific societies. Westermarck mentions Malinowski, whose approach, which Malinowski describes as ‘functional’, is nothing less than ‘indispensable’. Westermarck includes a description of his own work in Morocco. His collection of Moroccan proverbs had not just reproduced the sayings, but also described their communicative role and ‘functional aspect’ (ibid.: 200). Proverbs were, among other things, useful as a polite way to remind the listener of awkward truths and to defuse conflicts.
Westermarck mounts a critique of functionalism, especially of its unfounded generalisations. He focuses on Durkheim and Radcliffe-Brown, while Malinowski only receives praise (Westermarck, 2014[1936]: 193, 194, 201). Westermarck contrasts Durkheim's speculative approach with Malinowski's meticulous fieldwork. There was in fact a crucial difference between Malinowski's ‘functional’ method and Durkheim's and Radcliffe-Brown's (structural) functionalism. The latter identified the functional with the need of social structure to maintain stability. Malinowski had, instead, like Westermarck, sought explanations in the give-and-take between culture and basic, biological, and emotional human needs—sexuality and the need for nourishment, shelter, and safety. These were human conditions that any culture had to cope with, one way or other (Shankland, 2022: 136).
Malinowski, Westermarck, and the ‘organic whole’ of society
The historiography of social anthropology has loved a narrative stressing the revolution and reset of the discipline, supposedly with Malinowski as the pivotal figure (Shankland, 2022: 142). In that narrative, Westermarck sits squarely in the ‘classical’, Victorian anthropology as its last great exponent (Lévi-Strauss, 1982[1945]; Pipping, 1984). This interpretation builds on a reading of the voluminous early works (Westermarck, 1891, 1906–8) that made his name. Ironically, the impression of a gap between Westermarck and modern methods is, if anything, reinforced in what is today the most vocal effort outside social anthropology to present him as a thinker ahead of his time. That is the argument to rehabilitate Westermarck as ‘the first sociobiologist’ or evolutionary psychologist (for a critique of Westermarck from that perspective, see Cofnas, 2020). Such presentations deal almost exclusively with Westermarck's theory of incest, hence placing their emphasis on his first book, The History of Human Marriage, a complete armchair product.
Anthropology quite certainly went through a paradigm shift between Frazer and Malinowski, but there is a need to reconsider Westermarck's role.
The paradigm shift was, above all, a shift of perspective. The focus moved from large-scale comparative studies towards specific, geographically limited tasks. Anthropologists would account for social phenomena in the ‘organic whole’ of society. The format as such naturally directs the study towards the internal dynamics of individual societies—the need of at least some form of functional approach is more or less implicit in field research practices. Westermarck, too, contributed to this shift of focus. As fieldworker, he should be seen as an inspiration to Malinowski, not as an exponent of the armchair anthropology of the ‘classical’ school. On the other hand, Westermarck and Malinowski certainly had different attitudes to fieldwork reporting. Westermarck's reporting style was definitely old-fashioned in comparison with Malinowski's. He still organised his finds in a thematic way, in the manner of the previous generation, so that we never get a clear picture of the individual localities where he stayed. Malinowski was more explicit about how different aspects of social life were interconnected in specific communities. Westermarck's interpretation of the notion of origins was, from the very start, different from that of the classical school, instead approaching what Malinowski would later cover with the word function. Westermarck certainly used the word ‘origin’ also in its Frazerian sense of ‘an earlier (pre)historic stage’, but its dominant meaning for Westermarck was the psychological background of human behaviour in the present. Shankland points out that precisely this connection with human basic needs was an element that Malinowski would inherit, while it was lost in functionalism after Malinowski. The following academic generation committed itself to Durkheim's demand that the social must be explained with the social (Shankland, 2019: 59–60). A central part of Westermarck's theoretical thought concerned ways in which biological and psychological impulses are linked with social development via institutions. Westermarck's ethical theory, presented in The Origin and Development of the Moral Ideas (1906–8) and in Ethical Relativity (1932), is essentially a theory of how instinctive tendencies are institutionalised in the form of law, custom, and religion (Stroup, 1982). When Malinowski, in 1932, describes his theoretical position, he claims, quite similarly, that ‘the satisfaction of biological needs implies and develops a system of derivative requirements’, that is, social and psychological needs and social norms (Malinowski, 1932: xxxvi). The family system and sexual life imply an interplay between nature and man via institutions (ibid.: xx). Malinowski's original inspiration appears to come from Westermarck's lecture course that he attended during his first term at LSE (LSE Calendar, 1910–11: 191–2, cited in Young, 2004: 172; Shankland, 2014a: 9). According to Shankland (ibid.: 9), ‘The summary of Westermarck's course is remarkably close to the theory of institutions that Malinowski later came to develop’.
We have noted some obvious continuities between Westermarck and Malinowski. However, we should not think that questions about intellectual inheritance are solved merely by comparing their works and tracing similarities. We need also to consider their personal friendship, which allowed for fruitful interaction despite existing differences. In the end, it was Westermarck and not, for example, Haddon who became the bridge connecting evolutionism with Malinowski's ‘new anthropology’. One might find this surprising. Like Malinowski, Haddon was a pioneering fieldworker and a specialist on Melanesia. He was early to emphasise the need of geographically limited studies, later a cornerstone of Malinowski's approach. However, in this context, academic and personal lives are intertwined: Westermarck and Malinowski connected more easily on a personal level. Their joint seminars were important to both of them. Their collaboration rested on a solid ground of friendship, which is why their disagreements never turned into conflicts, but became occasions for a continuous exchange of ideas.
Footnotes
Declaration of conflicting interests
The authors declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The authors disclosed receipt of the following financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article: This work was supported by the Horizon 2020 Marie Skłodowska-Curie Actions, University of Pardubice (grant no. 101026669).
