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Memories of the Past and Thoughts on the Future by William A. Douglass (On October 2 in Vitoria, Alava, professors Enrique de Gandia, Argentine historian, and William A. Douglass, Coordinator of the Basque Studies Program at UNR, were awarded honorary doctorates by the University of Basque Country. The occasion was the investiture of the 1984-85 academic year. The event was presided over by the Basque president Carlos Garaikoetxea and the rector of the University, Gregorio Monreal. The following is the English translation of the discourse given by William Douglass.) Approximately twenty years ago I came here to the Basque Country with the intention of carrying out fieldwork for my thesis in social anthropology. I wanted to find two Basque villages that had much in common with respect to size, socio-economic makeup, distance from urban centers, etc., but which reflected different histories of emigration of their populations. I selected Echalar in Navarra and Murelaga in Vizcaya. Since I wished to effect a comparative study of the causes and consequences of the emigration, the study entailed analyzing social change in the way of life of the traditional Basque farmstead or caserio of the last century and the early years of the present one, as well as the situation that I observed in the 1960s. At that time, it still seemed reasonable for an anthropologist to focus his work upon the institution of the caserio within the wider setting of the Basque village. The caserio symbolized the essence of Basque ethnicity. This focus was perfectly in keeping with the anthropological tradition of studying rural lifestyles on the one hand and the rich tradition of Basque ethnography represented by scholars such as Barandiarán and Caro Baroja on the other. But I failed to take into account the fact that the institution of the caserio as such was on its last legs. That is, since the time that I conducted my research in Echalar and Murelaga until the present, or the last two decades, the caserio has changed more than in the previous two centuries. When I recall daily life in Echalar twenty years ago, for example, and I compare it with the present situation, they seem to me to be two different communities. I first arrived in Echalar with a Volkswagen and a study grant of $250 a month and in terms of lifestyle, I was one of the few rich people in the town. Most of the caserios were far from a road passable by car. Many farmers had to walk as much as two hours to reach the village center. That Volkswagen was one of the two or three cars in the town. Only the doctor, the village secretary and a storekeeper had television sets. Many of the caserios had a small water-driven generator to provide their electricity which managed to provide a little light for the stable and kitchen for a few hours each evening. There was not a single stable with a cement floor; there were no silos, tractors, or mechanized machinery. The scythe and the yoke were the two implements that best symbolized the agricultural system, for both man and beast. It was still customary to send bands of sheep and pigs to the mountains to graze on the meadows, chestnuts and acorns. The forests were made up largely of chestnut, oak and beech trees. Some of the men worked in logging, others emigrated to foreign lands and many worked in gau lana or contraband. While eggs, pigs, calves and milk were sold for cash, there was still considerable emphasis upon the self-sufficiency of each caserio. The typical Basque family in which parents co-resided with a married son or daughter and the unmarried offspring of both unions persisted (although it reflected symptoms of demographic crisis). Nok esan! Who would have thought! is the expression that best captures what has happened. In two decades many of the farmsteads of Echalar have been abandoned and the remainder have been transformed completely. To a greater or lesser degree all have become commercial agricultural enterprises that have little to do with self-sufficiency. Almost all have electricity, modern machinery, automobiles, television sets, etc. In the mountains there is practically no livestock and the native forests are being converted to pine plantations. In the village center there are several chalets where outsiders spend the summer and weekends. Today, instead of working in agriculture, contraband or as sheepherders in the American West, the young men from Echalar commute daily to the factory in Lesaca. In sum, that traditional lifestyle of not so long ago has disappeared. Future Basque anthropology will have to address new themes, such as urban-industrial life, elements of Basque ethnicity, symbolic anthropology, etc. I believe that among social scientists the anthropologist is the most romantic. Possibly he is a frustrated novelist. He tends to search out exotic and little known worlds. In this respect I consider myself privileged to have known the Echalars and Murelagas of earlier days. I have indelible memories of the three years that I lived on caserios and partook of farm life. I know that it affected me profoundly, even in my personality and outlook. Perhaps the memories are all the more vivid because they form a part of my former or lost youth. I wouldn’t exchange them for anything. At this point, I would like to change the subject. I believe that on these occasions it is customary to highlight a person’s life work. In this respect I feel very honored and tremendously grateful. But I would prefer to underscore the fact that for several years I have worked with fine collaborators. If my work has contributed something, it is in large part due to our common efforts. For the last 17 years at the University of Nevada we have had a Basque Studies Program. It was our intention to create there a center with a good library in order to facilitate serious Basque scholarship. Since we have a sizeable Basque population, the idea seemed to be particularly appropriate for our university and region of the American West. However, from the outset it was clear that if we would have to “internationalize” our approach. For this reason our staff considers that the Basque Studies Program belongs to everyone. We are constantly looking for ways to collaborate more intensely with persons and in situations with a serious interest in Basque topics, and particularly in Euskadi, since the grand future of Basque studies is, and should be, here. The rest of us can be the echo of your shout. Consequently, I want to take this opportunity to establish closer ties and contacts with all of you. Nevadan gagoz eta han zuen Ipar-Amerikako etxea daukazue. Zatozte. Eskerrikasko. |
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