Poland, Pierogis, and the history of Archaeology and Spies

For this post, I decided to stick with Eastern Europe and explore Poland and the pierogi. Pierogis are small, stuffed flour-dough dumplings. These versatile dumplings are seen as comfort food, and can be filled with a variety of fillings (cheese, potatoes, onion, mushroom, veal, fat, and so forth) and served in a variety of styles (boiled, fried, warm, cold). You can even make dessert pierogis, which is high on my list.

I had help with these. My friend Elizabeth, who grew up making pierogis, and is a decidedly better pierogi filler than me, taught me how to roll out the dough, fill, and seal these delicious dumplings. She also helped me taste test.

The origin of the pierogi ties nicely to my last post as they likely came from the Far East, perhaps even from Ukraine and the Kievian Rus. In fact, the first documented recipe comes from the Compendium ferculorum, largely considered the first Polish cookbook published in 1682 (you can read more about the history of the pierogi, Ukraine, and Poland here).

Tying into my Ukraine post, I want to yet again explore archaeology and war. But this time, I want to review the relationships between archaeologists and war. In my post on Ukraine, I looked at how archaeology can be used to document war. This can be incredibly powerful in terms of memory and forgetting. Archaeologists play an important role in the documentation, and in doing so, play a pivotal part in keeping the memory of the past alive.

A great example of this, from Poland, is the recent (2019) documentation of Cold War bunkers used to house nuclear warheads. Using airborne laser-scanning data, historical cartography, archived aerial photographs and declassified satellite imagery, the archaeologist Grzegorz Kiarszys was able to demonstrate that even sites veiled in secrecy and hidden from public view can be uncovered through archaeology. Some of what he used was declassified Spy Satellite Imagery. His research not only showed that the sites in question were nuclear storage sites, something hidden from the Polish people, but also revealed the lengths the Soviet Union went to make these sites appear “normal” by veiling them behind vestiges of everyday life, including serving as homes to women and children. As this shows, archaeology has the power to go beyond the written accounts to access the parts of history unintentionally or intentionally forgotten.

However, using information gathered from espionage brings up numerous questions about ethics in archaeology. Such as, where do we get our data? What data is okay to use? While archaeology is not the only profession grappling with such questions (for example, much of what we know about cervical cancer was from data gathered from Henrietta Lacks, who did not receive profits, nor was asked for consent, from the research conducted in her cells) it is worth considering here.

For archaeology, the questions go beyond data collection to the role of the archaeologist. Using data gathered from espionage is only the tip of the iceberg. In fact, the two are more connected than you might realize.

The link between archaeology and espionage is rooted in the romantic image of each profession. In pop culture, both are often portrayed as heroes and detectives, who serve a greater good. This link; however, is more than just fiction. As documents have become declassified, memories and histories written, more has come to light about the interaction between the two.

In many ways, archaeologists and anthropologists are ideally situated to be spies. They are part of a profession based on understanding culture and customs. They build relationships based on trust with the people they are working with. They can easily move across borders. They study and understand the geography of a region. They speak the languages, sometimes even dead ones. They go places that few would have a reason to visit otherwise.

In fact, archaeology as a cover has led famous archaeologists, like Sylvanus Morerly, to engage in espionage. Morely, one of the pioneer archaeologists of Mesoamerican, who brought to light much about Chichen Itza, also monitored German presence in Central America during WWI. And, the famous Harvard archaeologist Samuel Lothrop who worked in Central America, assisted in the WWII effort in the 1940s. As the benefits of working together became apparent to the CIA, they started covertly funding research in the 1960s. And many more such examples exist. Even as far as the Indian Wars in the U.S. when ethnographic knowledge was used to help “control the Indian problem.”

You might be asking, why did archaeologists and anthropologists agree to help the CIA and other covert operations? Aren’t our interests and guiding principles different? After all, archaeology is a science, it is about gathering “essential data regarding the fundamental nature of human societies“. And while we might think of this profession as apolitical, it is inherently so. For example, archaeology can be easily used for nationalist agendas, literally inventing pasts and erasing others. Even on a small scale, archaeology can affect local political decisions. Politics and policies also direct what research archaeologists do, what gets funded, who gets hired, etc. Clearly, the two are intertwined.

Hence the importance of guiding ethical principles. But these were not developed and written until much later in the history of the discipline (the late 1900s). Today, these principles help guide archaeology and anthropology. However, few repercussions exist for failure to comply, and the field is rife with examples of misconduct. The Register of Professional Archaeologists is one of the few organizations that outline sanctions for failure to follow ethical guidelines.

Had these guidelines existed in the past, perhaps the legacy of using archaeologists as spies would not exist. But perhaps not. Writing this out, I am struck by the thought that what I am really getting at is the question of “what is the role of archaeology and the archaeologist”?

What is the role of archaeology and the archaeolgist?

Archaeological investigations frequently pit their interests against those of other people, and the concerns of the present against the possible concerns of the future. The process of gaining archaeological knowledge begs us to ask what duties and responsibilities, ethical obligations, and values, archaeologists must-have. We must address who we work for, what happens to our knowledge, and do we have a say in how it is used? Are we owners or curators of the past and what does this distinction mean?

These are not easy questions, nor are they all the questions that need to be asked, and the answers and debates are beyond the scope of this post. But, by posting them here, I hope to get people to think about archaeology, ethics, and politics. What I can say, is that serving as both spies and archaeologists does not align with the guiding principles of archaeology and anthropology. Our access to people, to the past, to communities, to the living and the dead, must be rooted first and foremost in an understanding of “do no harm.”

The Recipe

What do you think? Do you have your own Pierogi recipe? Let me know!

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