Even if the special qualities of pottery can be adequately explained by all these arguments, it was, in the end, a trivial reason that gave this sort of discovery such a crucial role in archaeological research. Fragments of broken pots are only surpassed in their imperishability by the remains of stone tools, and in addition, apart from a very few special cases, they have absolutely no value for reuse. Thus the great number of pottery vessels in use at any one time has endowed us with an immeasurable number of pottery fragments from each excavation, which also, for the reasons previously mentioned, presents us with a tremendous breadth of variation.
Of course, we never find anything approaching all the possible ways of shaping pottery at one and the same time. Rather, particular possibilities—according to particular preferences—were selected, and these consequently determine the ceramic repertoire at a given time. Both the wish to make things individual and the wish to follow fashion are limited by the availability of materials, tools, and ideas, which differ from place to place and from district to district, as well as from epoch to epoch. This led to the varied appearance of the pottery that has been found, based on the various elements involved. As a result, we are able to carry out a more or less detailed definition of groups of pottery by contrasting them with one another, and are thus able to organize them chronologically or geographically.
The decision about whether differences in pottery are to be interpreted chronologically or geographically must, however, be guided by additional information. For example, the decoration on pottery vessels obviously had a much greater part to play in the early period than it did later. On the one hand, this was certainly necessitated by the need to close the large pores in clay vessels, which made these containers almost useless for storing liquids, by using finer material, with which the vessels could be decorated in the form of slip or painted. On the other hand, the painting of pots surely resembled older forms of decoration, such as the painting of walls or of the human body, in being an opportunity for artistic expression or for the definition of family or clan identity. Observation of styles of painting and of patterns therefore enables us, for the early periods, to differentiate between countless large and small groups of pots whose chronological and geographical distribution can provide points of reference for a whole series of interpretations.
We must, for example, differentiate between changes affecting a large area—for example, the whole Near Eastern area—and changes that clearly only had an effect in smaller areas at a given time. If we assume that the Near East was, for a long period, a coherent cultural entity, we might suppose that among the changes that would have affected the whole of the Near East, those based on some kind of technical development would have been first and foremost. After all, a cultural entity does imply the same standards, the same problems, and hence the same openness and willingness to take on technological innovations. It should, therefore, be possible to interpret changes that affect a larger area as chronological changes.
Differences in the appearance of the vessels, especially those that can be interpreted as trends in fashion and can be restricted to smaller areas, are, on the other hand, more likely to be the expression of regional or local changes, even if we cannot rule out the possibility that such changes may also be explicable as chronological differences. We shall see that it is possible to make rough chronological distinctions on the basis of technological horizons of development in the pottery of the early periods in the Near East.
It is possible, especially on the basis of ceramic decoration, to identify both large and small groups of pottery down to the smallest subgroups, and at least partially to determine their geographic relationships, as far as our material permits. Relationships whose common denominator can only be rarely given concrete definition can, in general, be described as cultural affiliations. Assuming that pottery groups can be indicative of social groups as a rule, we think of family relationships among the groups who have produced the pottery in question, even if the theory that certain purely organizational relationships may explain the similarities should not be ruled out. It is true that in later periods areas of political control at times coincided with the borderlines of areas of distribution of certain kinds of pottery. This should not, however, lead us to an a priori assumption of some sort of political alliances during the early periods, only because we can show the existence of demarcation lines between specific pottery groups.
An examination of the earliest pottery provides a very good example of the difficulties that confront us in any interpretation of the similarities or differences in pottery. Later on, there was hardly ever so strong a differentiation in so narrow a vicinity as that which appeared when pottery first came into being.
As an example of this, we shall use groupings of characteristic ceramic products from four excavation sites that are all in the northern and central Zagros area (fig. 8). Chronological correspondence is made possible by the fact that at three of these sites, Qalʾat Jarmo, Tepe Guran, and Tepe Ali Kosh, there was an uninterrupted succession from preceramic to ceramic layers, which as the earliest ceramic finds must therefore belong to the same chronological horizon. The sequence at the fourth site, Qalʾe Rostam, did not reach back to prepottery layers, but everything else speaks for its being contemporaneous.
Figure 8. Pottery vessels of the Neolithic period, from the Zagros Mountains: (a) Ali Kosh; (b) Qalʾat Jarmo; (c) Tepe Guran; (d) Qalʾe Rostam. After (a) F. Hole, K. V. Flannery, and J. A. Neely, Prehistory and Human Ecology of the Deh Luran Plain. Courtesy, Museum of Anthropology, University of Michigan; (Ann Arbor, 1979), fig. 44, (b) R. J. Braidwood et al., Prehistoric Archaeology along the Zagros Flanks, OIP 105 (Chicago, 1983), figs. 105 and 106. Courtesy, Oriental Institute, University of Chicago, (c) J. Mellaart, The Neolithic of the Near East (New York, 1975), fig. 38; (d) H. J. Nissen and A. Zagarell, “Expedition to the Zagros Mountains, 1975,” Proc. of the IVth Ann. Symp. on Archaeol. Res. in Iran (Teheran, 1976), figs. 4–6.
Whereas the shapes and methods of production are similar, the techniques of decoration and the patterns differ widely. Decoration is variously splashed on or carefully painted. Matt colors contrast with gloss, and monochrome with polychrome painting. Some vessels were not treated in any way; others had the outer “skin” highly condensed over the painting (we call this “burnished”).
These varied pottery groups were clearly even smaller than might be assumed from the close proximity of the four places mentioned. Although archaeological investigation of the environment of Qalʾe Rostam has produced pottery fragments from a neighboring valley that are similar in almost every respect to the pottery of Qalʾe Rostam, above all in the characteristic principles of composition employed in the painting, they show none of the patterns typical for Qalʾe Rostam, for example, the human face (see fig. 8d, top right). The general similarities confirm our conjecture that these places did perhaps have some sort of connection with one another, but the distinct differences suggest rather that there was a very conscious attempt at making distinctions among themselves.
Thus it is that pottery, the main evidence we have uncovered, fails us precisely in connection with the question of sociopolitical structures. Moreover, study of the distribution of settlements and the relationships of settlements to one another—which is of great help for later periods—is just as useless here. As noted, at this period it was still necessary to be able to ensure subsistence through food gathering, so as to compensate for possible failures in food production. However, because the hinterland necessary to subsist by food gathering had to be very large, the maximum limits of the land area needed for each settlement were so large that individual settlements were still very far apart from one another. Hence opportunities, and the necessity, for making direct contacts hardly existed at all.
In addition to this there is the fact that the natural sites for settlements, for reasons already discussed, lay in strongly differentiated terrain, so that there were also natural barriers in the way of making contacts. In the
sense that the formation of settlement systems is seen as a consequence of the existence and intensification of such neighborly contacts, with their inherent conflicts, such systems cannot be expected to have existed during the period we are dealing with here. The fact that we have not really found any signs of settlements with systematic mutual connections from this period in the areas that have been investigated is probably not to be put down merely to the fragmentary nature of our finds.
Other methods of making assertions about forms of communal organization in Neolithic times have also largely proved to be failures. Settlements have hardly ever been excavated to the point where social differentiation can be determined from the layout of the settlement, the form and sites of the houses, the spread of house sizes, or the differentiation and distribution of the finds. The following examples from Çatal Hüyük in Turkey and Umm Dabaghiyah in Iraq do provide some important clues, but do not allow us to recognize any principles and cannot be reinforced by the addition of other examples, so that it is impossible to make generalizations.
Before the settlements mentioned above are discussed in more detail, we must once again stress the significance of the sites, or rather the surroundings, of settlements in this period. Although it is true that, like Çatal Hüyük, Umm Dabaghiyah, and Hajji Firuz, most of these settlements are to be found in regions that clearly conform to the hypothesis of a differentiated hinterland, we also know of the case of the settlement of Bougras on the central Euphrates, whose hinterland does not appear to show the same degree of internal differentiation. However, the river itself, the terrace on which the settlement was located, and the hinterland gave easy access to as many different sources as possible for food gathering there too.
The excavations in Çatal Hüyük, where a densely built-up area of about 440 square meters has been uncovered, provided us with the largest connected complex of buildings. Houses of standard size and all of roughly the same pattern were found packed closely together on an incline (fig. 9a). Neither paths nor other means of communication were found, nor any doors connecting the individual units with one another, so that one can only suppose that communication between, and entrance into, the living quarters took place via the flat roofs.
From the lack of significant differences in house size and structure and the lack of any sign of communal facilities, we must assume that this was a socially undifferentiated community. Although this would not contradict the generally held view of the type of community that existed during the Neolithic period, it must be noted that it was only possible to uncover about one-eighth of the total settlement. As we shall see, moreover, the grave finds point to the existence of social differences.
At least a fifth of the settlement of Umm Dabaghiyah, situated in northern Iraq, has been uncovered. Within this area, several long rows of small, interconnected rooms on three sides of an open space were found (fig. 9b). The layout and the finding in the rooms of large numbers of onager bones and skins lead us to suppose that these were central warehouses.
Figure 9. (a) Graphic reconstruction of part of the Neolithic settlement of Çatal Hüyük (Turkey), and (b) plan of the principal buildings at Umm Dabaghiyah (Iraq). After (a) J. Mellaart, “Excavations at Çatal Hüyük, 1962,” Anatolian Studies 13 (1963), fig. 6, and (b) D. Kirkbride, “Umm Dabaghiyah, 1974,” Iraq 37 (1975), pl. 1.
Although it was only possible to excavate a few living quarters, we may assume that more of these living quarters continued into the area that has not been excavated. Unfortunately, we cannot say anything about the distribution of sizes among the houses, but it is clear from the site as a whole that, since it possessed buildings that were used collectively, the outlines of an already structured form of organization can be observed here.
Too little of the settlement of Hajji Firuz, in the mountains of northwestern Iran, has been excavated to make possible any statements about the layout of the settlement. It seems that this settlement differed from those mentioned above in that it consisted, for the most part, of individual, freestanding buildings, which could be of slightly different sizes.
It is true that up until now none of the other excavations has provided us with an example of such clear differences in the size of buildings as would point to some sort of social differentiation. However, in all cases the relationship between settlement size and excavated area is always considerably more disadvantageous, so that no conclusions can be drawn from the lack of external differentiation, which could be a consequence of the fragmentary nature of our finds.
Finds such as burials, for example, which otherwise allow us on occasion to make statements about social differentiation, as well as about aspects of religion, unfortunately either do not occur very frequently or are not suitable for this sort of interpretation. In Hajji Firuz, for example, a great number of burial places were found, all under the floors of houses. However, as a rule they are multiple burials, in which the grave goods, which could have told us quite a lot, can no longer be related to individuals; in any case, grave goods were found in relatively few of these multiple graves.
Here, too, the excavations at Çatal Hüyük provide better information. At this site there were also numerous multiple burials, mostly consisting of collections of human bones buried inside the houses underneath benches for sitting or sleeping on, after the dead had presumably been left exposed for some period. Beads or stone tools had seldom been placed in the graves in these later burials.
Besides these burials, there were a few others that were notable for the opulence of the grave goods found in them. Among these were stone and wooden vessels, utensils used for makeup, belt buckles made of bone, and, above all, most exquisitely fashioned utensils made of obsidian and flint. Unfortunately, this clear evidence of social differences must stand alone. The houses that contained these graves do not differ in any way from the others.
Any opportunity we may have for making statements about religious ideas is also limited. The customs of putting food in the grave for the dead, in vessels the dead person was presumably intended to continue to use, and of strewing ochre over the dead person, a red coloring probably supposed to restore the lost color of life, allow us to conclude that they did think about life continuing after death. However, we lack evidence that would enable us to make any more exact statements.
Finds of human skulls modeled over with clay and decorated with shells in the prepottery layers at Jericho do allow us to draw the conclusion that there must have been some sort of ancestor worship, in which the skulls of dead members of the family were honored after some approximation to the way they looked in life had been made in this way. Analogous items are known to ethnologists. Walls, shelves, and “altars” in a few rooms at Çatal Hüyük that appear to be different in shape from other rooms are decorated with bulls’ skulls and horns, which could indicate a bull cult, or perhaps the worship of totem animals, with the bull having been the totem of that particular group.
Insofar as we can speak of cult rooms at all, and not merely of a corner set aside for the cult within the normal living area, we notice that such rooms are always directly connected to living quarters. Separate cult buildings—which could be seen as prototypes of later freestanding temples—are not known to us. However, here we must point out that there may well have been simple shrines outside the settlement—either the burial places of the heads of clans, or sacred buildings, or simple huts beside sacred wells or holy trees—just like the ones known to ethnologists as the focal points for cult events.
Although we must avoid making any far-reaching statements about periods for which we can in no way be said to have adequate material, we can say with some certainty that during the periods of time we have been dealing with up to now, from the Palaeolithic onwards, development took place more or less uniformly throughout the Near East. This may not be quite clear without further illustration because, in addition to smaller settlements, we know of at least two settlements that, on account of their size and other special characteristics, seem to bel
ong to a different level of forms of organization, Jericho and Çatal Hüyük.
Both cases point to an extremely highly developed social stratification, which seems just as unusual for the period as does the compact style of building in these settlements. This suggests that there must have been arrangements made for settling the social conflicts that inevitably occur when people live so close together. If in addition—as was the case with Jericho—such settlements were prevented from expanding by a perimeter wall, conflicts could not be solved by reducing the density of the population—that is, by increasing the area covered by the settlement. In this respect, the wall of Jericho not only points to its people’s increasing need for protection but must also have had a considerable effect on the development of social relationships within the settlement.
Apart from the pressure for increased internal conflict management, there are two other significant aspects here. On the one hand, the erection of such a wall would be inconceivable without the collective efforts of all the inhabitants, thus exerting pressure in the direction of collective labor. On the other hand, this perimeter wall not only made expansion of the settlement distinctly impossible, but would also have played a crucial role in increasing the differences between the inhabitants of the settlement and people living outside it.
In this type of settlement, sometimes called a “town,” a form has in fact been found in this early phase of development that anticipates some of the aspects and problems of the later town, but that differs in one decisive criterion from the later forms: as far as we know, Jericho was not the center of a settled countryside—it was not part of a settlement system, but was a river oasis without neighboring dependent settlements.
The Early History of the Ancient Near East (9000-2000 BC) Page 5
