123

Patterns of Mortuary Practice Associated

with Genocide
Implications for Archaeological Research
Debra Komar
Department of Anthropology, University of New Mexico,
MSC01 1040, Albuquerque, NM 87131-0001, U.S.A. (dkomar@salud.unm.edu) 10 IX 07

Forensic investigations of genocide address many of the same

research questions raised by bioarchaeologists, but the express
application of mortuary study theory to international warcrimes investigations has not been reported, nor have modern
examples served as the basis for reexamining mass death in
the archaeological record. Data drawn from single, multiple,
and mass graves in Bosnia and Iraq illustrate the behavioral
processes associated with mass death resulting from genocide.
Strong associations are evident between burial agent and differential mortuary practices. Considerate interments are seen
exclusively in burials executed by friendly forces (self ),
while erratic commingling and mass interments result solely
from the agency of enemy forces (other). Patterns of mortuary practice are sufficiently distinct as to identify agent of
burial when the details of grave creation are unknown. These
findings allow the reinterpretation of two mass interments in
the archaeological record with evidence of interpersonal violencethe Towton battlefield grave and the Crow Creek
massacre site.
There is no inherent reason to believe that the archaeological evidence of mortuary practices is telling us only
about the activities surrounding death.
D. K. Charles

The participation of anthropologists and archaeologists in

large-scale international human rights violation investigations
has increased dramatically over the past decade (Komar 2003;
Steadman and Haglund 2005). Although these investigations
are driven by the legal requirements inherent in all forensic
casework, the reexamination of these events in light of specific
research questions offers significant potential. Comparisons
of mass death events in different geographic regions and time
periods also provide unique insights into the disturbing practice of genocide. Of greater anthropological significance is that
such studies serve as a model for interpreting evidence of
interpersonal violence in the archaeological record.
All genocides in recent history have occurred in the midst
2008 by The Wenner-Gren Foundation for Anthropological Research.
All rights reserved. 0011-3204/2008/4901-0006$10.00. DOI: 10.1086/
524761

of war, not as its cause or consequence but because war suspends the rule of law (Hatzfeld 2005). Both legal and archaeological investigations of conflict must differentiate genocide from other forms of violence. Distinguishing genocide
from conflicts such as civil war requires that three elements
be demonstrated: (l) the physical element, acts of genocide,
(2) the victim identity element, in which victims constitute
an ethnic, racial, religious, or national group, and (3) the
mental element, indicating the intent of the perpetrators to
destroy the targeted group wholly or in part (Williams et al.
2006).
While the legal definition of genocide may be recent
(United Nations 1948), the practice is not. Distinguishing
genocide in the archaeological record from warfare, witchcraft, sacrifice, cannibalism, and ritual killing requires evidence of the assailants intent. Demonstrating intent in court
relies on action, patterns of action, and implied intent (written
or spoken communication revealing the perpetrators state of
mind). Archaeological interpretation requires similar evidence. Further confounding interpretation is the level of social
organization at which such conflicts arise. Whereas aggression
between nations or racial groups may be discernible in the
archaeological record through measures of biological distance
and spatial analyses (Kuwait National Committee 2004; Saller
1962; Willey 1982, 1990), identifying conflict based on religious ideology or ethnicity proves more difficult.
One promising avenue of inquiry may be mortuary practices associated with genocide. Differential treatment or deposition of remains reflects the beliefs and attitudes of the
agents involved. The concepts of veneration and violation and
the systems of space, time, and inhumation analysis currently
employed by mortuary archaeologists provide a valuable
framework for interpreting modern examples of mass death.
Although forensic anthropologists and bioarchaeologists address many of the same research questions, the express application of mortuary-study principles to current investigations of genocide has not been previously attempted. Lovis
(1992) argued for the acceptance of forensic archaeology as
mortuary anthropology but offered no specific examples to
illustrate the point.
The merging of forensic anthropology and mortuary studies provides clear benefits to both disciplines. On the one
hand, the application of bioarchaeological principles to forensic investigations provides systems of analysis that go beyond simple evidence description and allow for interpretation
of the social meaning reflected in conflict-associated mortuary
practices. On the other hand, examples drawn from recent
genocide investigations illustrate patterns of mortuary behavior associated with ethnic conflict that may inform studies
of interpersonal violence in the more distant past.
This study addresses the following questions: Are patterns
of conflict-related mortuary practice associated with the agent
of burial? and If so, can the agent of burial be identified in
the archaeological record? To answer these questions, it ex-

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Current Anthropology Volume 49, Number 1, February 2008

amines the treatment of the dead resulting from the ethnic

cleansing of Muslims in the former Yugoslavia (199295) and
the Anfal campaign targeting Kurdish civilians in Iraq in 1987.
Both examples represent conflict among ethnic groups within
a single nation and legally defined acts of genocide.

Materials and Methods

Information was gathered from reports and field notes associated with my work as a forensic anthropologist with Physicians for Human Rights in Bosnia in 1999, the International
Commission on Missing Persons in Bosnia in 2001, and the
Regime Crimes Liaison Office (a joint venture of the Iraqi
Special Tribunal and the U.S. Department of Justice) in Iraq
in 2004. My job responsibilities included excavation and documentation of graves, evidence collection, skeletal analysis,
and the interviewing of witnesses. All references to witness
statements in this study describe interviews conducted with
eyewitnesses or participants, including members of both the
victim and perpetrator groups. These interviews were conducted with the assistance of highly trained interpreters. Further, witness statements not corroborated by physical evidence
or other witnesses were considered unreliable and excluded.
Data were included only from those graves in which I participated in the exhumation. Analysis of the recovered remains
occurred at separate times and locations and, for 340 individuals in 9 graves, was conducted by other anthropologists.
Demographic information on the decedents is included where
available.
This study focuses on single, multiple, and mass graves,
excluding surface deposits, cremations, and other forms of
body deposition. Information on the following variables was
collected: site identification, minimum number of individuals
(MNI) recovered from the grave, sex and age distributions of
the decedents, presence/absence of a grave marker, method
of grave construction (manual, mechanical, use of natural or
preexisting feature), grave location (urban, rural, cemetery),
agent of burial, presence/absence of a coffin, presence/absence
of clothing or body covering, presence/absence of binding,
blindfolds, or gags, presence/absence of evidence of burning,
grave depth, body position in the grave, and primary versus
secondary deposition. Agent of burial was determined from
statements by those who performed or witnessed the burial.

Only graves with known agents of burial were included. Categories of burial agents were defined as (1) self or friend (same
ethnic group, relative, or associated army), (2) other or enemy
(different ethnic group or opposing armed forces), and (3)
neutral (third party foreign organization or agency such as
the Red Cross).
All variables were coded and entered into an Excel database.
The database was then analyzed using the SAS computing program. Tests for association were conducted using chi-square
analyses, with significance determined by p values ! 0.05.

Results
The total number of individuals included in the study was
1,189. This number reflects not the total number of individuals associated with each grave but only those recovered. Two
graves in Iraq were not fully excavated because of safety concerns. Pit-testing of one Iraqi grave (NWA2) prior to excavation by a U.S. military investigation resulted in the disturbance of a number of individuals who were not included in
the study. In cases involving large secondary graves from Bosnia, the MNI was calculated using duplication of skeletal elements and should be considered a conservative estimate. A
breakdown of decedent demographics for each grave type is
provided in table l.
The results for the 119 graves examined are summarized in
table 2. The largest of these graves had an MNI of 460 individuals. Only 17 of the 119 graves were marked. Coffins were
present in 21 graves, including 15 single graves and 6 multiple
graves. The largest number of individuals with coffins in a single
interment was 9. Grave depths varied from ! 10 cm to 1 4 m.
Evidence of perimortem thermal change, consistent with purposeful burning but not cremation, was noted in 10 individuals
(8.4%). Single and multiple/mass graves contained individuals
deposited in nontraditional postures (e.g., prone or with erratic
placement of limbs). Agents of burial included 83 self, 33 other,
and 3 neutral. Only other agents used natural or preexisting
features as depositional sites.
Tests for associations among variables (table 3) revealed statistical significance in the relationships between (a) grave depth
and mode of construction (p ! 0.001), (b) grave depth and MNI
(p ! 0.001), and (c) body position and MNI (p ! 0.001).
Significant associations were also found between agent of

Table 1. Summary of Decedent Demographics by Country and Grave Type

Site/Grave Type
Bosnia
Single (n p 69)
Multiple (n p 45)
Mass (n p 5)
Iraqa
NWA2
NWA9
a

MNI

Males

Females

Sex Unknown

Adults

Subadults

Age Unknown

69
193
667

57
141
568

12
36
12

0
16
87

61
177
580

0
4
10

8
12
76

164
96

0
63

27
0

137
33

27
64

96
0

41
32

Final MNI reported in Chomko, Ousley, and Van Arsdale (2005).

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Table 2. Summary of Results

Number of Graves
Total number of graves
Single
Multiplea
Massb
Grave type
Primary
Secondary
Spatial distribution
Urban
Rural
Cemetery
Grave construction
Manual
Mechanical
Natural feature
Undetermined
Grave marking
Marked
Unmarked
Body position (single)
Supine
Prone
Side/erratic
Body position (multiple/mass)
Orderly placement
Erratic commingling
Erratic deposition of parts
Body covering
Clothing
Nude
Blanket, rug, plastic
Coffins
Present
Absent
Binding, gags, blindfolds
Present
Absent
Evidence of burning
Present
Absent
Agent of burial
Self/friend
Other/foe
Neutral party

Percentage

119
69
45
5

58
38
4

90
29

76
24

15
84
20

12.5
70.5
17

87
28
3
1

73
23.5
3
0.5

17
102

14
86

61
6
2

88
9
3

19
17
14

38
34
28

68
8
43

57
7
36

21
98

18
82

17
102

14
86

10
109

8
92

83
33
3

70
28
2

2 to 9 individuals.
b
10 individuals.

burial and presence of coffin, presence of grave marking, MNI,

grave construction, evidence of burning, presence of binding,
presence of clothing/body cover, and body position. No significant associations were seen between agent of burial and
primary and secondary graves or grave location.

Discussion
Legal and anthropological definitions of genocide differ. Legally, genocide is defined as the destruction, in whole or in
part, of a national, ethnic, racial, or religious group (United

Nations 1948). Violence motivated by differences in ideology,

political party, social status, gender, or age does not constitute
genocide. For example, the Nazi targeting of Jews was legally
genocide, while the simultaneous campaign against homosexuals was not. In contrast, anthropological notions of genocide focus on motivation and behavior. To fully appreciate
the distinction between legal and anthropological concepts of
genocide, an understanding of the legal definitions of motive and intent is vital. Motive is the personal justification for an act, while intent is the mental resolve to commit the act (Garner 2001). In the anthropological literature,
Hinton (1996, 824) describes a genocidal self that emerges
during times of conflict, enabling the assailant to dehumanize
victims, employ euphemisms to mask deeds, undergo moral
restructuring, become acclimatized to killing, and deny responsibility for action. This describes motive rather than intent. Lewin (1993) describes generalized genocidal behavior

Table 3. Associations between Grave Variables and Agents

of Burial (119 Graves)
Variable
Grave location
Rural
Urban
Cemetery
Grave type
Primary
Secondary
Constructiona
Manual
Mechanical
Existing feature
Grave marking
Present
Absent
Coffins
Present
Absent
MNI
1
29
10
Body position
Orderly
Erratic
Clothing/covers
Clothing
Naked
Covering
Bindings
Present
Absent
Burning
Present
Absent
a

Self

Other

Neutral Party

61
9
13

23
5
5

0
1
2

0.85

61
22

26
7

3
0

0.6

74
8
0

10
20
3

3
0
0

! 0.001

14
69

0
33

3
0

! 0.001

19
64

0
33

2
1

! 0.01

59
24
0

10
18
5

0
3
0

! 0.001

80
3b

0
33

3
0

! 0.001

42
0
41

25
8
0

1
2
0

! 0.001

0
83

17
16

0
3

! 0.001

0
83

10
23

0
3

! 0.001

n p 118 (construction of one grave undetermined).

Secondary graves containing surface remains collected by returning refugees, with only minimal, unintentional commingling of elements.

126

rather than specific acts. Anthropologists have even attributed

genocidal behavior to chimpanzees (Lund 1995), whose
motivation may be inferred but whose intent cannot be
known. While the distinction may appear inconsequential to
anthropologists or archaeologists, it remains vital to forensic
investigators. When criminal intent exists, motive becomes
immaterial (Garner 2001, 360).
Agency has been defined as the socioculturally mediated
but individually motivated capacity to act purposefully in such
a way as to create archaeologically discernible change in prevailing modes of mortuary practice (Cannon 2005, 41). For
the purposes of this study, the definition of agent of burial
includes the specific recognition of the role of ethnicity in
effecting such change. Lewin (1993, 296) argues that genocide
necessitates a continual conceptualization of self and other.
This differentiates the use of self and other in genocidal
contexts from their traditional anthropological use (see, e.g.,
Harris 1989). As defined here, self and other follow Talbot
(1995), Hinton (1996, 821), and Boskovic (2005) in incorporating notions of ethnic-group boundaries formed by the
exclusion of others and the development of internal criteria
for solidarity (Talbot 1995, 699). Harris (1989, 604) suggests
that the terms kind or social kind can be used to describe
groups established by ethnic divisions or those summative
social identities by means of which members of the society
group together and label clusters of social properties. However, because kind does not differentiate opposing forces or
those divided by aggression or conflict, the term is inappropriate for this study.
The Balkans and Iraqi conflicts described in this paper took
place between ethnic groups within nations. While concepts
of identity traditionally associated with conflict (such as friend
and foe or victim and assailant) can be employed in these
circumstances, the ethnic basis of the conflict also requires
notions of self and other. For example, the conflict in
the Balkans involved three distinct ethnicities: the Bosniak
Muslims, the Catholic Croats, and the Serbian Orthodox
Serbs. While each group features a predominant religion, it
would be inaccurate to describe any of them as religiously
uniform. Intergroup variation in language, belief systems, and
cultural practices makes the distinction one of ethnicity rather
than religion. The complex relationship among the ethnic
groups in the former Yugoslavia has been examined elsewhere
(see, e.g., Malcolm 1996; Rohde 1998; Silber and Little 1997),
but clearly identifying opposing forces in the conflict has been
problematic. For example, the Serbs have been vilified as the
perpetrators of atrocities, but, in the wake of the NATO
bombing campaign of 1999, many Serbs also identify themselves as victims, a stance not easily understood by outside
observers (Boskovic 2005, 9). Similarly, Croats have been perceived as both victims of Serb aggression in 1991 and assailants in the Bosnian conflict in 1993 (Boskovic 2005). Depending on the circumstances, any individuals definition of
foe might include either or both opposing ethnic groups.
Therefore, the level of distinction that best reflects the inter-

Current Anthropology Volume 49, Number 1, February 2008

action among groups includes recognition of self (those of

similar ethnicity) and other (those of differing ethnicity).
This distinction was incorporated into the definition of
agent of burial in this study. Determination of the burial
agent was made on the basis of witness statements from direct
participants; investigators were directed to the graves by informants who claimed responsibility for creating them or witnessed their creation. In addition to the categories of self and
other, a third category, neutral party, based on exclusion from
membership in any of the ethnic groups identified, was necessary because it was associated with distinctive mortuary
practices.
Widespread agreement on what constitutes a mass grave
has not been reached. A study defining grave types in terms
of taphonomic variables found statistically significant differences in decay rates and grave dynamics among single, multiple (2 to 5 individuals), and mass (6 or more individuals)
graves (Komar 2001). Other researchers recognize only the
distinction between single and multiple graves (Vanezis 1999).
In this study, the number of individuals in a grave ranged
from 1 to 9 and from 28 to 460, and therefore the categories
were single, multiple (2 to 9 individuals), and mass (10
individuals). The term clandestine is used to describe unmarked interments whose purpose was to destroy or obscure
evidence, while nonformal (after Kuckelman, Lightfoot, and
Martin 2000) indicates graves without markings or coffins
that were intended to inter rather than to hide the decedents.
Secondary graves represented the subsequent interment of
surface-deposited remains following decomposition. This was
done by self, other, and neutral agents as individuals returned
to repopulate previously abandoned areas and sought to dispose of the dead who had been left where they had fallen.
Self-created secondary graves involved the burial of surface
remains or reburial of next-of-kin originally interred in other
locations. Despite the disarticulated or decomposed nature of
the remains, they involved purposeful arrangement of remains
or attempts to maintain the integrity of individuals. Othercreated secondary graves were a means of evading detection
by international investigators. For example, a large secondary
grave in Bosnia resulted from the mass transfer of bodies
from another location by Serbian forces. The exhumation,
transport, and reinterment of the decedents were carried out
with heavy machinery such as backhoes and dump trucks.
This resulted in extensive disarticulation and the erratic commingling of body parts in the secondary grave. Other-created
secondary graves also included the burial of surface-deposited
remains for aesthetic or hygienic reasons in areas slated to be
repopulated by the perpetrators.
No statistically significant associations existed between
grave location and agent of burial, grave depth, MNI, or construction. Choice of grave location appeared to be a by-product of where the deaths occurred. Observation had led me to
hypothesize that clandestine mass graves would be located
predominantly in rural areas, but chi-square analysis of grave
type and location proved me wrong about this (p p 0.8).

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The relationship of grave depth, number of individuals,

and mode of construction is easily understood. Increased
grave depth is strongly tied to mechanical modes of construction. Mechanical construction is associated with the use of
heavy earth-moving equipment, such as backhoes or excavators, capable of creating large, deep graves with a minimal
expenditure of human energy. Mechanical modes of construction result in larger graves capable of containing larger numbers of individuals.
Veneration honors the memory of the deceased, while violation denies the dead a resting place (Duncan 2005). Postmortem acts of violation are typically reserved for those who
die a bad death, including violence or death in battle (Bloch
and Parry 1982; Duncan 2005). However, acts of veneration
and violation are culturally and contextually specific and this
study in no way adopts a uniformitarian approach. Anthropologists must take note of local standards when analyzing,
interpreting, or labeling conduct or actions (see Harris 1989).
The acts described as veneration (respect) or violation (disrespect) here reflect the understanding of the communities
in which they occurred. For example, my interviews revealed
that the inclusion of pig carcasses in mass graves containing
Muslim decedents in Bosnia was considered an act of disrespect by the surviving next-of-kin and intended as an act
of disrespect by the perpetrators. However, in other temporal
or regional circumstances, the inclusion of animals in the
grave may be honorific.
In this study, acts of veneration include presence of a grave
marker, presence of a coffin or additional body covering, and
orderly position of the body within the grave. Given the circumstances surrounding the burials, including continuing
warfare and concerns for the safety of those performing the
interments, acts of veneration reflected the time, manpower,
and resources available. For example, in Bosnia wood to fabricate coffins and the tools needed to construct them were
scarce. In the 21 graves there with coffins present, the coffins
consisted of boards placed above, below, and to the sides of
the individual being interred. Kuckelman, Lightfoot, and Martin (2000) use the term considerate treatment to describe
such respectful acts.
Without exception, all acts of veneration were associated
with self- or neutral-created burials. Despite the lack of available resources, bodies were treated with care and afforded the
best burial the circumstances allowed. According to statements by those who performed the burials, the absence of
any indicator of veneration (such as a grave marker) reflected
a limitation of resources or time rather than indifference to
the decedents or their social status. We did the best we could
with what we hadno wood, no electricity, no shovels, the
enemy was always on us, according to one Bosniak survivor
who had hastily buried three of his family members. Acts of
veneration performed by neutral parties lacked indicators of
religious significance, such as the traditional Muslim head
and foot grave markers commonly used in Bosnia. No acts

of veneration were observed in Iraq, as all graves included

from that region were other-created.
Acts of violation in this study were identified as clandestine
burial, absence of coffins, clothing, or body covering, use of
natural or preexisting features such as fissures, caves, or
trenches as sites of body deposition, presence of binding, gags
or blindfolds, burning of remains, and erratic commingling
of individuals in the grave. Without exception, all acts of
violation occurred in other-created burials. Despite evidence
of mechanical construction indicating the availability of resources and manpower, other-produced graves were best described as body disposal. Witness statements indicated that
the motive for such exercises was evidence destruction or
concern for the safety and aesthetic well-being of the living.
The postmortem burning of remains reflected not an attempt
at cremation but the purposeful destruction of evidence and
was typically associated with the burning of houses and villages following the killing of the occupants.
While acts of veneration may be limited by access to resources, body position in a grave reflects the attitudes and
intent of those performing the interment. Orderly placement
of single or multiple bodies within a grave (fig. 1), such that
all individuals were afforded sufficient space, bodies were
placed supine with purposeful arrangement of the extremities,
and all heads were oriented in a single direction, represented
respect and reverence for the deceased. Orderly placement
was found only in self-created burials. In contrast, erratic
commingling (fig. 2) was seen only in other-created burials,
in which bodies were thrown into the grave or deposited en
masse from dump trucks. The allusion to bodies as refuse
is appropriate, as erratic commingling is strong evidence of
disrespect and violation.
Large mass graves often encompassed numerous isolated
killings and sometimes represented events occurring over a
period of time. Despite their clandestine nature, the formation
of large mass graves by the other was both labor-intensive and
time-consuming. That such graves were often constructed
near or within urban centers using heavy equipment suggests
that the perpetrators had little fear of discovery or punishment
from opposing ethnic groups.

Implications for Archaeology

Stylistic Variation and Access to Resources
One important consideration for archaeologists raised by
these results concerns the interpretation of contemporaneous
graves. The graves described here range from single marked
graves with coffins to mass clandestine inhumations. Despite
the variety of grave types and styles, all are contemporaneous
within their respective geographic regions. While any grave
may represent a single attack, they are all associated with a
series of events that collectively constitute an act of genocide.
One of the challenges facing archaeologists working in historic
or prehistoric contexts is the ability to recognize varying grave
types as contemporaneous and associated with a specific

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Current Anthropology Volume 49, Number 1, February 2008

Figure 1. A grave containing seven Bosniak Muslims excavated in Foca

in 1999, showing the orderly placement of the individuals within the
burial, which was carried out by self (fellow Bosniaks). (Photo used by
permission of the Office of the High Representative, Bosnia.)

event. In forensic contexts, investigators rely on artifacts such

as expiration dates on medicine or food packaging, dates on
money or newspapers, witness statements, time-since-death
estimates, and material culture such as clothing or jewelry
styles to date the creation of the grave. While the application
of some of these methods to archaeological contexts is limited,
reliance on artifacts and material culture to establish temporal
horizons is a well-established practice in archaeology. Many
researchers use variation in grave type, fashion, or construction as evidence of social stratification or cultural distance
(see, e.g., Cannon 2005; Miller 1982; Sproles 1985). This study
demonstrates that varying expressions of fashion or construction in contemporaneous graves is reflective of more than
differences in social status. In periods of warfare, conflict, or
social unrest, grave fashion and construction are tied to access
to resources (specifically materials, manpower, and time) and
agent of burial rather than the social status of the deceased.
For example, the site of Detlak in Bosnia (described in Komar
1999) contained the remains of four individuals, three highranking soldiers and a local civilian. According to witness
statements by the man responsible for the burial, the first
body (a soldier) was interred in a full coffin, following which
the power had been turned off and the remaining bodies were
interred in makeshift containers made of wood scraps. The
seemingly preferential treatment of the one soldier was not
reflective of his rank; rather, it reflected the variable nature
of the resources available to the individual burying the four
individuals, who had intended to treat all four the same.

Scale
Another consideration for archaeologists is scale. In the legal
definition of genocide, it is not the number of individuals
killed that defines genocide but the intent of those committing
the act. Archaeologists should not rely on the presence of any
one featurelarge-scale inhumations, trauma, or clandestine
burialsto identify genocide but rather focus on evidence of
the intent producing such features. It is also important to
note the full range of acts that constitute genocide: (a) killing,
(b) causing serious bodily harm, (c) deliberately inflicting
conditions of life calculated to bring about destruction, (d)
preventing births, and (e) the forcible transfer of children
(United Nations 1948). Theoretically, each act is recognizable
in the archaeological record. Once identified, potential interpretations of such events must include genocide. The scale of
recent atrocities is neither temporally bound nor reflective of
modern advances in weaponry and technology. In Rwanda,
the ethnically motivated genocide of approximately 800,000
Tutsis by Hutu extremists known as the Interahamwe was
conducted in 100 days during the spring of 1994, predominantly with machetes (Gourevitch 1998; Hatzfeld 2005). The
issue was not one of scale or weapons capability but intent.
Mass graves occur throughout the archaeological record in
a variety of geographic locations. For example, more than 30
mass inhumations have been reported in the American Southwest; typically classified as Anasazi, they date to approximately
AD 9501300 (Darling 1999). Evidence of interpersonal vi-

129

Figure 2. An example of erratic commingling. A total of 28 individuals

were removed from this clandestine grave in Petrovicka Krivina, Bosnia,
in 1999. The grave was created by Serbian forces at the base of a cliff.
Witness statements indicate that bodies were thrown from the top of the
cliff and then covered with soil. (Photo used by permission of the Office
of the High Representative, Bosnia.)

olence is also common in prehistory, yet anthropology has

been remarkably silent on the topic of large-scale genocide,
an omission that is particularly striking because anthropologists have demonstrated the ability to productively explain
the roots of violence in other, nongenocidal contexts (Hinton
1996, 818). Traumatic injury and the presence of ligatures or
binding have been cited as evidence of cannibalism (Billman,
Lambert, and Leonard 2000; Turner and Turner 1999), ritual
sacrifice (Cordy-Collins 2001; Verano 2001), social control
(Baker 1994; LeBlanc 1999), mutilation associated with warfare (Bullock 1991), and witchcraft (Darling 1999). To date,
an express interpretation of genocide has yet to be advanced.
Identifying the Agent of Burial
The discovery that patterns of mortuary practice in these cases
are strongly associated with agent of burial allows the deter-

mination of agency where the details of grave creation are

unknown. Two sitesthe Towton battlefield in England and
the Crow Creek massacre site in South Dakotawill serve to
illustrate this.
Towton is a village in North Yorkshire, England, in which
a battle occurred on March 29, 1461. Described as one of the
largest and bloodiest of the War of the Roses, the battle is
said to have involved 76,000 combatants and 28,000 casualties
(Knusel and Boylston 2006). In this decisive engagement between the houses of York and Lancaster, the Yorkist army
emerged victorious (Fiorato 2000). In July 1996 a mass grave
was discovered on the reported battlefield. The rectangular
grave measured 3.25 m # 2 m with a maximum depth of
0.65 m. It contained either 37 or 38 individuals (Boylston,
Holst, and Coughlan 2000; Fiorato 2000). The remains were
erratically commingled, with individuals deposited prone and

130

supine and with heads oriented west-east, east-west, and

north-south (Sutherland 2000). All were males between 15
and 60 years of age (Boylston, Holst, and Coughlan 2000)
with evidence of multiple sharp- and blunt-force injuries. Few
artifacts were recovered, and the bodies appeared to have been
stripped of clothing and armor prior to burial (Burgess 2000).
Although no ligatures were recovered, the fact that the bodies
had their arms behind their backs has been interpreted as
evidence of restraints (Sutherland 2000). Sutherland considers
the erratic body positions as an attempt to reduce labor on
the part of the burial detail and argues that, had the bodies
been buried by the enemy, one might assume even less respect (p. 41) for the decedents.
Although prior studies have judged these burials self-created (Sutherland 2000) or of undetermined agency (Knusel
and Boylston 2000), the pattern is consistent with that of the
other-produced graves of the present study. Evidence to support this interpretation includes erratic commingling of individuals, indications of binding, and absence of coffins, grave
markings, clothing, and personal effects. Knusel and Boylston
(2000) contend that the significance of the burial treatment
at Towton extends beyond body placement. The grave was
not located on sacred ground, despite the presence of a nearby
chapel, and the disfigurement of the corpses and the absence
of consistent east-west body orientation deviate from the symbolic religious and social norms of the period. All these features argue strongly for other-creation of the burial.
Excavations at the Crow Creek Sioux Reservation in South
Dakota revealed the remains of nearly 500 adult and subadult
individuals. The bodies had been deposited in an open fortification ditch and covered with a layer of clay and village
midden. The associated village, dating to approximately AD
1325, contained structures that had been burned and additional human remains (Zimmerman et al. 1981). The assertion that there was a single cause of death for all: warfare
(Larsen 1984) highlights another important distinction between anthropological and forensic interpretation; standards
of medico-legal death classification would identify the sharpor blunt-force trauma sustained by each individual as the
cause and homicide as a consequence of warfare as the manner
of death.
The remains of at least 486 individuals, calculated to be
60% of the village population, were excavated in 1978 (Willey
1990). Craniometric and discrete-trait analysis showed that
the decedents were most closely related to Arikara (Willey
1982, 1990). That morphologically alien or craniometrically aberrant skulls were recovered from the grave was interpreted as either absence of the perpetrators remains at the
site or their being morphologically indistinguishable from the
victims. Young adult females and old adult males were underrepresented among the victims, raising the possibility of
raiders having taken young women captive (Willey 1990;
Zimmerman et al. 1981). Trauma and mutilations were evident in virtually all individuals. Scalping, as well as bluntforce trauma to the head, decapitation, and dismemberment,

Current Anthropology Volume 49, Number 1, February 2008

was noted in 90% of the skulls in all age-cohorts and both

sexes (Willey 1982, 1990; Zimmerman et al. 1981).
Disarticulated remains were piled in the fortification ditch
with no systematic effort to align elements. Bones were accumulated against the north wall of the ditch, and no kin
distinctions were made in the placement of the skulls (Willey
1982, 1990). Once the bones were deposited, they were covered with a thin layer of clay. A layer of scattered bones was
discovered above the principal bone bed, possibly a secondary
deposit of bones found after the initial burial or the remnants
of disturbance of the primary burial by scavengers (Willey
1990). The possibility of other burial locations in the village
has been raised (Kivett and Jensen 1979; Willey 1982, 1990;
Zimmerman et al. 1981). Extensive evidence of canid scavenging led Willey to speculate that the bodies had remained
unburied for several weeks.
Willey believed that returning villagers or otherwise affiliated people (1982, 160) were responsible for the burial.
Comparison with the patterns observed in this study challenges this interpretation. The use (and possible repeated use)
of an existing feature and the erratic commingling of the
remains are consistent with the seven burials carried out by
the other in Bosnia. Of the 22 secondary self-created graves
in Bosnia, only 3 involved any commingling of elements
among multiple individuals, and in these three cases attempts
were made by the burial agent to separate the individuals:
two graves involved multiple individuals placed in separate
plastic shopping bags, while the third grave contained the
skeletal elements of each individual bundled in clothing. Although subsequent osteological analysis indicated that skeletal
elements were incorrectly assigned to several individuals, interviews with the burial agents revealed that these misallocated
elements had been separated from the remains by scavengers
and attempts to reassociate the remains, though sincere, were
made without any advanced knowledge of anatomy. Prolonged delays in burial, exposing the surface-deposited remains to weather and scavengers, were seen in both self- and
other-generated burials in Bosnia. (No secondary deposits
were included in the sample from Iraq.)
The use of the modern Bosnian sample as an analogy for
Crow Creek, however, is problematic. While a secondary
burial with an MNI of 460 is included in the sample, it represents an other-created burial. All secondary deposits that
were self-created contained fewer than 10 individuals. A more
appropriate recent example may be the mortuary practices
seen in Rwanda following the genocide in 1994. Survivors
returning to their villages collected the skeletonized remains
of their kin and neighbors and deposited them in mass graves
and ossuaries. Preserved sites such as Nyamata and the massacre of over 5,000 individuals at the Ntarama Church contain
collections of osteological remains representing hundreds or
thousands of decedents. Despite the number of individuals,
the deposits are organized by skeletal element with purposeful
placement of long bones and the orderly arrangement of
skulls. This contradicts Willeys (1990) contention that sys-

131

tematic deposition within the Crow Creek grave was impossible because of the skeletal condition of the remains.
Finally, because the secondary burials in this study were
often created by returning inhabitants, the subsequent occupation of Crow Creek is relevant. Human remains were left
in some of the village lodges (Willey 1990, 160), suggesting
that neither the victims nor the perpetrators occupied the
village immediately after the raid. Following the massacre,
the functions of the village as a social unit, a fortress and a
home ended (Willey 1990, 157). As neither group appears
to have inhabited the site during the period between massacre
and burial (estimated from scavenger activity to be from
weeks to months [Willey 1982, 1990]) or thereafter (Kivett
and Jensen 1976), the burial cannot be reasonably attributed
to either group on this evidence alone.
While Willeys interpretation of the agent of burial cannot
be refuted, the patterns seen in this study suggest, on balance,
that the Crow Creek burial was other-generated.

Conclusion
Archaeological and forensic excavation strategies differ
(Hoshower 1998), as do legal and anthropological concepts
of genocide and cause of death, but much common ground
remains. Both anthropological and legal inquiries seek to understand violence and human behavior in the cultural context
in which it occurs. Notions of socially acceptable forms of
killing (e.g., sacrifice, capital punishment, traditional warfare,
self-defense) versus killing that violates social standards (such
as murder) remain culturally and temporally specific. Even
genocide is not universally taboo. Semujanga (2003, 50) argues that the use of the word genocide is a moral act: to
employ the term is to condemn the murderer, while failure
to use it implies killing done in legitimate defense.
Some of the most profound insights into human nature
are revealed in our darkest deeds. To understand why genocide
occurs, we must first recognize when, where, and how it occurs. The accurate interpretation of violence requires differentiating acts of genocide from warfare and other forms of
conflict. Establishing evidence of genocide, in a court of law
or in the archaeological record, begins with attributing acts
to self or other, friend or foe. This extends beyond forensic
notions of personal or positive identification, in which the
decedent is named, to issues of ethnic, national, racial or
religious identity.
Kuckelman, Lightfoot, and Martin (2000, 160), in their
survey of changing patterns of violence in the Northern San
Juan region between AD 900 and 1300, have argued that the
trends were probably the result of factors common across the
regionsuch as environmental, sociopolitical or religious
stresses. Challenging prior interpretations of the violence as
evidence of cannibalism, raiding, or witchcraft and building
on hypotheses of conflict for the purposes of intimidation
and social control, they present evidence of an escalation of
violence that had many of the hallmarks of modern genocide:

geographic concentration of previously dispersed populations,

large-scale attacks, including the eradication of villages, indications of social inequality among groups, mass inhumations, extensive evidence of perimortem violence and trauma,
and the inclusion of women, children, and the elderly among
the victims. While they do not suggest an interpretation of
genocide, the evidence argues for its inclusion as a potential
explanation for the patterns of violence described.
Genocide is not a modern phenomenon. Hitler did not
invent it; he was merely the catalyst for its legal definition.
Evidence of violence, conflict, and mass death in the archaeological record has not, to date, been interpreted as genocide.
The question remains whether this reflects a true absence of
genocide in prehistory or merely our inability to recognize it.
Studies of mortuary practices associated with modern conflict
can illuminate the practices of the past. Burials in contemporary conflict regions are typically informal and often diverge
from culturally prescribed practices because of a lack of resources or because the interments were performed by people
with different cultures. The patterns revealed by these studies,
linked to the agent of burial by the witness statements and
photographic documentation available for contemporary examples, can help support the inferences about intent that are
essential to interpreting evidence of violence in the archaeological record.

Acknowledgments
I am grateful to the anonymous reviewers of an early draft
of this manuscript, whose insightful comments greatly improved this paper, and to the Office of the High Representative
in Bosnia for permitting publication of the photographs.

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