Bodies, race, and the history of anthropology

Another overdue post from our visit to Spain this past spring...

The Museo Nacional de Antropología in Madrid has a fascinating history. The first museum in Spain to be dedicated to the study of anthropology, it was founded in 1875 as the Museum of Anatomy by Pedro González de Velasco under the patronage of King Alfonso XII. Velasco's anatomical specimens and the ethnographic artifacts collected by the Spanish government from across its then-vast empire formed the museum's original collection. Off to the left of the main entrance lies a small, nondescript room that today displays some of these items as a record of, and a tribute to, the museum's past. For me, the most interesting, and, in many ways, poignant pieces in the room was the skeleton of Augustín Luego Capilla.

Skeleton of Augustín Luego Capilla

What makes the skeleton so remarkable, and the reason why Velasco acquired it for the museum, is its size: when Capilla died at the tragically young age of 26, he stood 2.35 meters (~8 feet, 3 inches) tall. Known as the "Gigante Extremeño," or "Giant of Extramadura," Capilla earned a living as part of a circus act and, when traveling through or near Madrid in 1875, sought medical attention from Velasco. By that time he was very ill, and on December 31st he died. His mother, Josefa, apparently in gratitude for Velasco's medical care, donated her son's body to the museum for anatomical study.

Capilla's extreme stature is likely explained by pituitary gigantism, a condition caused by the excessive secretion of growth hormone and insulin-like growth factor 1. The disproportionately large mandible, abnormal bone growth around the knee joints, and enlarged hands are all symptoms of acromegaly, which is commonly associated with pituitary pathologies. Capilla is one of only a handful of acromegalic skeletons on display in western museums. Velasco also created a full body cast of Capilla's corpse before it was skeletonized (this is also on display in the museum).

Pelvic girdle of Augustín Luego Capilla showing pathological proximal
femora (note anterio-posteriorally compressed femoral heads) and acetabula.

While the skeletal material is very interesting from a paleopathological perspective, some point out, correctly I believe, how tragic Capilla's life and afterlife was and is. Being displayed today as a museum oddity, Capilla's body, one can argue, has no more dignity now than Capilla himself had as a spectacle for gawking circus-goers when he was alive. While Capilla's body was donated, this was not the case for other acromegalic skeletons, many of which were essentially stolen to be included in medical collections.

The room also houses some objects that encapsulate the rather sordid history of biological anthropology, especially its obsession with racial typology.

Die Proportionslehre der Menschlichen Gestalt,
Carl Gustav Carus, 1854. 

References:

Giménez-Roldán, S (2019). The Giant of Extramadura: acromegalic gigantism in the 19th century. Neurosciences and History 6: 38-52.

Forensic anthropology and political violence in Guatemala

Between 1960 and 1996, Guatemala experienced a brutal civil war that cost the lives of over 200,000 people. While the roots of the conflict stretch back nearly 500 years to the exploitative policies of the Spanish Empire, it was in 1960, in response to a CIA-backed coup that overthrew the country's democratically elected president, that a rebellion broke out to overthrow a repressive military regime. Among the most tragic features of this conflict was the systematic murder of ethnic Mayans, who were seen as rebel sympathizers.

While we were in Spain in the spring of 2019, my wife and I visited the Museo Nacional de Antropología in Madrid. The museum had an exhibition featuring a series of haunting photographs by Jonathan Moller, who documented the work of forensic anthropologists involved in the recovery, excavation, and identification of skeletal remains from the disappeared. This is taken from the exhibit:

Since 2000 a Guatemalan citizens' movement has sought justice and challenged impunity. The exhumations and subsequent investigations by forensics have played a key role in that effort, as they offered survivors the opportunity to expose the truth, providing concrete evidence of the atrocities committed in the war. For many years, the government of Guatemala buried the truth about these killings and massacres, just as they buried hope for a better life in Guatemala. The perpetrators of the crimes have responded to the exhumations by unleashing a new wave of political assassinations and death threats to prevent the truth from coming to light.  

The exhumations bring back the pain and horror, but at the same time they impart healing and closure to the surviving families. The survivors are finally reunited with their loved ones, and they are able to mourn and give them a proper burial in the village cemetery, to be at peace with them and with themselves, since many feel guilt for having survived. The exhumations, mourning and re-burials help the survivors recovery their dignity. 

These photographs were taken between 2000 and 2001, when Jonathan Moller was part of the forensic anthropological team of the Office of Peace and Reconciliation, which worked in the municipality of Santa María Nebaj. They represent a starting point to begin to tell the story of the repression and unspeakable violence suffered by the Mayan peoples of Guatemala, and they can only begin to convey the emotion and intensity of what was experienced at that time. Jonathan witnessed the families' pain and grief as they relived these horrible atrocities, and he also shared their joy and celebration at recovering the remains of their loved ones.

The recovery of historical memory allows us to know the past to understand the present and thus have references to build a just and peaceful society that values above all the life and dignity of people.

 The images are extremely powerful--here is just one that I snapped with the camera on my phone:

A member of the forensic team carefully lifts the remains of two men who
were killed in the violence in the 1980s. Jonathan Moller, Nebaj, 2001.

Just another example of how anthropology matters. You can read more about these efforts at the Fundación de Antropología Forense de Guatemala.