While the subjects of ethnographies are often understood to be the most crucial aspect of the research, equally as important is understanding the ethnographers themselves. A common conflict faced by many anthropologists is whether or not to study their own communities. Dr. Seeman has previously shared that, although one of his early mentors advised him to avoid this practice, he ultimately chose to embrace it. Doing this type of research adds a personal connection to the work and could lead to deeper insights and a more intimate understanding of the group being studied. But, this practice also risks creating a blurred and biased portrayal of the truth. This is why understanding the researcher’s perspective is sometimes just as important as understanding the group being researched.
In their paper “Anthropology, Judaism, and Jews,” Dr. Don Seeman and Dr. Nehimia A. Stern explore the relationship between ethnographers, their Jewishness, and the role that this identity has historically played within their research. First, they show a pattern of early anthropologists shying away from “touch[ing] explicitly on the anthropology of modern Judaism” (Seeman & Stern, 2) and concluded that this was initially because of “the desire to be free from what Boas called ‘the shackles of tradition’… and the strong sense in early anthropology that one ought to focus on putatively unchanging ‘primitive societies’’’ (Seeman & Stern, 2). This anthropological period went hand-in-hand with many changes in the Jewish world that altered the way Jews were studied. These events contributed to the main question Seeman and Stern explore in their writing: “Are the anthropology of Jews (the people) and the anthropology of Judaism (the religious tradition) conterminous?” (Seeman & Stern, 3). The authors explain that in some cases, the answer to this question is yes, and in others, it is no. They claim that their goal is not to create strict categories but to show that understanding the complexities of Jewish life can help challenge how religion is studied in general. It can be studied in many ways: “through time, conveyed by ritual, by the continuity of kinship or by looking back over one’s shoulder nostalgically” (Seeman & Stern, 6). In fact, the authors note that memory and mourning are two elements that shaped early Jewish ethnography immensely. However, throughout this course, we’ve seen that this framework can present its own issues. In “Life is with People,” for example, Herzog and Zborowski’s nostalgia and desire for good clouds a clear picture of what Shtetl life really looked like, and in “Number Our Days”, Barbra Myerloff’s identity as a Jewish woman studying an elderly Jewish community could have hazed her view, and as a result, made her an unreliable narrator. The difficulty for anthropologists to both study their own community and simultaneously remain unbiased and realistic in their interpretations is an ongoing struggle. This struggle presents itself head-on in André Levy’s “Return to Casablanca”.
Levy’s work is directly tied to his existence. In the introduction of his book, he reveals that he lived in Casablanca, Morocco, for the first five years of his life. Despite the emotional tie he describes, his memories are limited to boarding a ship and departing to Israel. He vividly recalls the appearance of the water and describes the people around him as dolls that “years later [he] still searched for” (Levy, 1). Initially, I found this immediate note of nostalgia worrisome. I questioned whether, much like the work of Herzog and Zborowski, it might skew his perception of the place and its inhabitants. However, Levy’s outlook on nostalgia intrigued me because it diverted from the views highlighted by Dr. Seeman and Dr. Stern. Levy claims that “nostalgia leaves its mark on the logical consecutive structure of an individual’s life of events that otherwise might seem out of place; it unites fragments of memories which seem scattered, engraved in the milestones spread in scattered places” (Levy 2). Here, Levy portrays nostalgia as an essential piece to telling a complete story. In contrast, Dr. Seeman and Dr. Stern argue that it often “serves primarily aesthetic rather than analytical goals [and] defines a particular anthropological mood without really troubling its cultural or historical embeddedness” (Seeman and Stern 12).
Levy returns to Casablanca to study how the community has changed and how Jews and Muslims interact within one space. During his first trip, he leaves in disappointment. In fact, he claims that this feeling “is not unique to us” (Levy 10), and from it, he comes to understand how Jewish life in Casablanca has changed drastically over time. For his graduate studies, he goes back to Casablanca. I found the way he described his first few days there to be extremely telling of the culture of Morocco and the way in which its Jewish and Muslim communities lived together. As an Israeli, Levy saw his ethnographic work as a risk and even noted that “he [knew] they [knew] (that he was Israeli) and that he [knew] how easy it is for them to summon the authorities” (Levy, 13). As a result, when attempting to rent an apartment at the beginning of his work, Levy was recommended to Jewish real estate agents. These individuals did not want to help Levy, and instead, he rented an apartment through a Muslim agent. This was so interesting because it directly related to our classroom discussions of kinship and how it looks different between cultures. I think Levy assumed that because he was a fellow Jew, a Jewish real estate agent would feel a social bond with him and would, therefore, want to help him find an apartment, but he quickly realized this was not the case. From this trip, he saw the way in which Moroccan Jews avoided heavy interactions with Muslims and was shocked to see how respectful and involved Moroccan authorities were in Jewish community events.
Understanding the colonial influence on North African Jews, particularly Moroccan Jews, is essential for grasping their relationship with Muslims in the region. Levy examines this through the experiences of Yitzhak Ben Yais Halevi, a 19th-century Jew from Essawira, who noted that Sultan Ben Abdallah’s development of a port boosted the economy but made it reliant on European trade. During this time, successful Jewish merchants were able to escape the confines of the Mellah (Jewish quarter). However, Halevi pointed out that these changes did not benefit all Jews. This period ultimately led to French Protectorate rule, which brought political, economic, social, and cultural advantages to the Jewish community. Yet, “shortly after its withdrawal and the establishment of independent Morocco in 1952, some of the changes the Protectorate had brought developed further and were joined by new ones. Together, they deepened the rift created in relations between Jews and Muslims” (Levy, 71). New forms of nationalism and Arabization emerged and, at the same time, an increase in Zionism made it increasingly difficult for Jews to want to live in the region. According to Levy, “migration seemed to be the only inevitable solution to the integrated and intensive attack on Jewish daily life” (Levy, 73). I found it interesting that colonialism, although initially seen as beneficial, ultimately intensified divides and ruined the ongoing history of Jews in Casablanca. At one point, there were hundreds of thousands of Jews living in Morocco, but the population continued to dwindle.
This small remaining group struggles to preserve its deep history and due to their declining numbers, they have struggled heavily with their identity too. Levy notes that there are times when they do not have enough individuals to participate in community celebrations or holidays. This anecdote reminded me of an idea explored in the movie “Europa Europa”: the difficulty of upholding tradition and practicing one’s religion when there isn’t support from the surrounding community. Toward the end of the first half of the book, Levy attempts to define the Moroccan Jew. He says that he tried to do so “by place of residence of [a person’s] nuclear family,” (Levy, 84) but this, too, failed to produce conclusive results. The author’s struggle to clearly define the Moroccan Jewish identity reminded me of our ongoing challenge to define what it means to be Jewish, especially in places where other identities coexist.
At first, I was concerned that Levy would paint the picture of Jews living in Morocco that he wanted for his childhood self–one filled with happiness and unity. But, thus far, he is successful in not letting his nostalgia get the best of his ethnographic work. Although it is extremely difficult to do, Levy does a good job with striking a balance between adding personal anecdotes to his story, and attempting to remain objective and close to the truth. As I navigate my final project for this course, I too find it difficult to strike this balance and to study a group of people who I consider to be my own community. Taking the advice of Dr. Seeman and Dr. Stern, as I move further into my own research, I will continue to “acknowledge that Jewish life may not always fit the dominant categories through which the anthropology of religion has been conceived” (Seeeman & Stern, 4).
Thanks for such an insightful post! I really liked how you highlighted the importance of the ethnographer’s identity, especially when studying their own community. Dr. Seeman and Dr. Stern’s points about early anthropologists avoiding Jewish anthropology gave valuable context. Your thoughts on André Levy’s Return to Casablanca were super interesting, especially how Levy uses nostalgia to make sense of fragmented memories, which differs from Herzog, Zborowski, and Myerhoff. It made me think more about the role of personal experiences in ethnography. Levy’s experience with the Jewish real estate agents was a great example of how cultural bonds don’t always translate into real support, complicating shared identity. The historical context, like colonialism and nationalism, added depth to understanding Jewish-Muslim relationships. Your point about the dwindling Jewish community in Casablanca was also powerful. Overall, your post was a great look at the challenges ethnographers face when studying their own communities. Thanks for sharing, it gave me a lot to think about for my own research.
Hi Juliette!
I really enjoyed your nuanced take on Levy avoiding turning his ethnography into a dream of nostalgia for what could have been his childhood. He was clearly grappling with the colonial history being beneficial for Jews in Morocco and how that could skew the understandings of his ethnography as being colonial apologetics. I think, as an anthro major, that anthropologists bring their own personal bias to the table regardless of whether they are working in a different culture or within their own. It is what makes us human. His ethnography might be an even better ethnography than a total outsider because of his understanding of context. I think that should overpower the fear of bias.
Juliette, I really liked your post, especially your thorough explanation of Dr. Seeman and Dr. Stern’s paper and how you saw direct correlations to Dr. Levy’s research in Return to Casablanca. I also enjoyed how you connected this week’s readings to our past discussions about nostalgia and the concerns or dangers that may come with doing an ethnography on one’s own people, like Myerhoff and Zborowski and Herzog. One point that stuck out to me while reading “Anthropology, Judaism, and Jews” was in the discussion of memory and its primary service within anthropological writing: “The question is not ‘Why so many ethnographies of memory and nostalgia?’ But rather, ‘What have these ethnographies collectively taught us about the nature of memory and social experience or of Jewish life and how can they be leveraged into bettering such understanding?’” (13). I really liked this idea that even examining how memory and nostalgia is present within Jewish anthropology is another way to analyze the Jewish experience along with the actual context of the ethnography. You also mentioned how, at first, you were interested to see how Levy would navigate his research as he was returning to a place that was filled with nostalgia from when he was a young boy. Not only is Levy a Morrocan Jew, but he also identifies as Israeli, which adds another complicated layer to his identity, though I would argue it also provided a strong viewpoint for his discussion of Moroccan Jews who immigrated to Israel, which was interesting to think about in contrast to the Ethiopian Jews who also came from an African country, though both groups felt a nostalgic connection to the place they came from and may have idealized what their lives looked like before.
Your blog post was very insightful! I appreciated that you highlighted Andrè Levy’s discussion of his struggle to define who is a Moroccan Jew. The political aspect of who is defined as a Jew seems very similar to some other things we’ve talked about, like the Israeli political discussion on the Jewishness of the Beta Yisrael. There is an emphasis on the privacy of the community because it is politically and financially beneficial so that the community can continue to receive aid from the AJDC. It also feels like an existential question to me. Having a count of the number of Moroccan Jews in the Casablanca community solidifies the reality that the community continues to shrink. You brought up really great points, thank you for sharing.
I really enjoyed the way you mentioned how Dr. Seeman chose to embrace studying his own community and communities familiar to him, even though many anthropologists tend to avoid doing so. Your points about André Levy’s book, Return to Casablanca, were eye-opening because I didn’t realize the extent to which Levy’s memories could skew his study of Moroccan Jews. When you mentioned Levy’s challenge in defining Moroccan Jewish identity, I thought about how that is could apply to many Jewish communities around the world. Also, Levy’s struggle with understanding Jewish identity preservation reminded me of some of the previous anthropologists we have studied and their similar challenges they faced in their Jewish ethnographies. Also, I appreciated how you highlighted a challenge that I would believe many anthropologists face: the balance between objectivity and personal experience. It made me reflect about how people are motivated by their own lived experiences, and would seek to answer questions that are relevant to them. But, that approach comes with subjectivity or potential bias. I wonder: can an anthropologist ever truly study and report objectively? Thank you for your insightful post!!
I think this response perfectly articulates the challenges ethnographers face when studying their own communities. It highlights the unique advantage of being able to fill in gaps with personal experience, while also stressing the importance of remaining objective to avoid bias. This reminded me a lot of Barbara Myerhoff’s struggle in “Number Our Days,” where she reflects on the struggles she faced as she researched her own community. Moreover, her work, like the ones discussed here, illustrates the complexities of studying a community you are deeply connected to and reflects on how to remain neutral. This made me reflect on the potential benefits of studying one’s own culture. While studying your own culture may introduce bias or make some inferences seem unreliable, it also offers a rare and intimate perspective, allowing the researcher to understand the community in ways an outsider might not. As both an anthropologist and a member of the culture, the researcher can forge deeper connections and insights that would otherwise be missed. Additionally, this reading made me think about our own ethnographic projects. As we study communities with which we share cultural overlap, we must remain aware of how our connection to the subject might influence our work. We should be mindful of striking a balance between personal involvement and scholarly objectivity.
This post offers great insight into the challenges of ethnographers studying their own communities, especially within Jewish ethnography. I appreciate how you explored Levy’s struggle with nostalgia and the balance between personal connection and objectivity. Your reflection on the difficulty of defining Jewish identity, particularly in the context of Morocco’s colonial history, is thought-provoking. It’s a reminder of how important it is to be aware of how our own identities shape the research process.
I really enjoyed your blog post. You did an excellent job of highlighting the complexities ethnographers face when conducting their research. I like how you took the perspectives of Dr. Seeman, Dr. Stern, and Andre Levy and tied them together to demonstrate the personal challenges ethnographers encounter. I appreciate how you emphasize the importance of understanding the researcher’s perspective when reading their work. It is crucial to understand the context in order to better understand the work that is being presented and determining any biases.