Abstract
For the prehistorian in me, the word "civilization" is somewhat disturbing. I'm sure I'll have a feeling of déjà vu when reading about Egyptian and Aztec civilizations, and I'll willingly accept the arguments of those who tell us about a Cardial or Magdalenian civilization, but I'll be taken aback by colleagues who would have us believe in a Neanderthal civilization, and even shocked by those who would have us believe in an Australopithecine or Chimpanzee civilization. Why should a Chinese civilization be self-evident, but the San of the Kalahari pose us a problem? The reason for this disturbance lies first and foremost in the many nationalistic, imperialist and colonialist uses of the word, which are more prejudicial to the collective imagination than we might think. Are we not surrounded by fellow citizens who believe in the global supremacy of French cuisine, the jewel in the crown of "French civilization"? For the researcher, the disturbance stems from the word's inability to free itself from its dichotomous nature, from its propensity, in short, to create a boundary between members or assimilates and others, between a before and an after. Definitions and warnings are not enough to counter the barrier effect that the word inevitably entails. Research into human evolution has long fallen victim to this paradigm. It was believed that a biological and cultural revolution had created the conditions necessary for the birth of civilizations. We are increasingly aware that this vision has prevented us from understanding the cultural and biological processes that have forged human cultures and their place in nature over the long term.
Biography