Post by Admin on May 16, 2022 17:29:26 GMT
13.2 The broader behavioural context
There have been several recent studies that convincingly suggest that the Neanderthals of the late Middle Palaeolithic (~115–39 ka) had a developed sense of distinct cultural identities expressed through the lithic record (Ruebens, 2013, 2014). The distinct cultural groups are the Mousterian of Acheulean Tradition (MTA) for south-west France and north-west into Britain, representing a Mousterian tradition dominated by handaxe manufacture, including the British regional version of the Bout Coupé (White and Jacobi, 2002); the second identified group was the Keilmessergruppen (KMG) from central and eastern Europe, dominated by backed and leaf-shaped bifacial tools; and the third group identified was the Mousterian with Bifacial Tools (MBT) geographically located between the MTA and KMG groups through Belgium and northern France and characterized by a variety of bifacial tools. The studies conclude that the differing typologies of artefacts cannot be accounted for as reflecting raw material or function, but rather the MTA and KMG were two distinct cultural traditions in which the specific concept of bifaces was passed down through the generations. The MBT is interpreted as a border zone where highly mobile Neanderthal groups of the MTA and KMG seem to have interacted. These studies therefore support the notion of distinct regionalized cultural behaviour among late Neanderthal groups in Western Europe as defined through the lithic record.
There are indications from other behavioural practices of the Neanderthals that may also suggest the presence of distinct cultural groups. One of these avenues of research revolves around the treatment of the dead. Despite controversy over whether Neanderthals buried their dead (e.g. Gargett, 1999), it has now been generally accepted that Neanderthals (or at least some of them) engaged in mortuary practices (Pettitt, 2010). Furthermore, the Neanderthal treatment of the dead seems to be geographically and temporally variable, where practices range from non-burial; caching of body parts; inhumation without grave goods – perhaps utilizing natural features; deliberate burial with grave goods; and skeletal defleshing, through space (evidence has been found in western, central and eastern Europe as well as the Near East) and time (~115–40 ka; Pettitt, 2002, 2010).
However, Neanderthals did not just bury their dead, they also engaged in other forms of mortuary treatment of the remains such as cannibalism (Cole, 2017b; Saladié and Rodríguez-Hidalgo, 2017). What is of further interest is that even within the acts of cannibalism, there may well be a range of motivations with interpretations ranging from survival cannibalism (Rosas et al., 2006; Defleur and Desclaux, 2019) to nutritional cannibalism (as part of the diet) (Barroso and de Lumley, 2006; Maureille et al., 2007; Rougier et al., 2016; Rodríguez et al., 2019). The case of Troisième caverne of Goyet (Belgium) (~45.5–40.5 ka; Rougier et al., 2016) is additionally intriguing due to the processing of the Neanderthal carcasses and the production of bone tools from the Neanderthal remains, which were used as soft hammers to knap stone tools. Rougier et al. (2016) also point out that the cannibalistic treatment of the Neanderthal remains at this site seems to be different to the post-mortem treatment of Neanderthal remains at other sites in the region, which are either non-existent (Walou Cave and Trou de l’Abîme – Belgium), possible burial (Feldhofer – Germany) or active burial (Spy – Belgium). From isotope analyses it would appear that the consumed from Goyet had a foreign origin (so possible exocannibalism) and were perhaps slaughtered by the local inhabitants, presumably another group of Neanderthals or possibly even an unknown group of H. sapiens (Wißing et al., 2019). There have been previous arguments that even when acts of cannibalism have been assigned to survival or nutritional labels, that there may well be social or cultural motivations that contribute to and underpin the consumptive act (Cole, 2017b). Therefore, there is a great deal of behavioural complexity surrounding the Neanderthal treatment of the dead in both time and space. At the time of writing, the only other species that seems to have an equally diverse range of motivations and post-mortem treatment of human bodies is our own (but see van Leeuwen et al., 2017 for an example of chimpanzee practice).
McBrearty and Brooks (2000) highlight that systematic ochre use is a key component of what may be considered modern human behaviour. d’Errico et al. (2010) and d’Errico and Stringer (2011) conducted useful reviews of Neanderthal and H. sapiens pigment use, which highlighted more than 40 Middle Palaeolithic sites from MIS 6 to 3 or ~160–30 ka, some with vast quantities such as 450 pieces (250 of which show use) from Pech de l’Azé I (France) (see also Villa and Roebroeks, 2014: S1). In addition, Roebroeks et al. (2012) have shown that Neanderthals may well have been exploiting haematite at Maastricht-Belvédère (the Netherlands) from ~250 to 200 ka. In which case, the Neanderthal exploitation of ochres and pigments would seem to match in time the exploitation of such resources in the African record (Barham, 1998, 2002). The reasons for ochre or pigment use has been much debated ranging from medicinal, as a preservative in hide processing, an adhesive in composite tool-making and social signalling (Velo, 1984; Minzoni-Déroche et al., 1995; Callahan, 1999; Barham, 2002; Barham, 2010; Kuhn et al., 2007). However, it is interesting to note that from the ethnographic record, the use of pigments has always had a primary use in social signalling rather than the signalling arising as a secondary purpose (Knight et al., 1995; Barham, 2002). This would certainly seem to be the case at Cioarei-Boroşteni Cave (Romania) dated to ~47 ka, where a geode has been deliberately painted with red ochre (the authors suggest for some symbolic meaning) and where ochre preparation containers have been suggested from the upper components of stalagmites (Cârciumaru et al., 2015). This behaviour apparently dates before the arrival of H. sapiens in the region and therefore, if symbolic, could suggest that Neanderthals were an independently symbolic species before the arrival of H. sapiens in Europe (and see below).
One of the major markers of modern human behaviour still remains the ability to produce art. Currently, the earliest evidence for engraving comes from the H. erectus site of Trinil, ~540–430 ka (Joordens et al., 2015), where a geometric engraving has been carved into a freshwater mussel shell. Although a lone instance (so far), the act of engraving has some intriguing implications for the origins of deliberate pattern production in non-H. sapiens species. Cave art and rock art are still seen to be the benchmarks of art production, where it was previously thought that the earliest evidence for such behaviour came from north-west Europe ~40–35 ka (see references in Pike et al., 2012; García-Diez et al., 2013), although recent research from Sulawesi (Indonesia) and Borneo has shown that rock art is also present in the South-East Asia from at least ~40 ka (Aubert et al., 2014, 2018b) with evidence of ochre use from Madjedbebe Rockshelter in Australia from ~65 ka (Clarkson et al., 2017). This would suggest, therefore, that the H. sapiens behavioural package including rock art may well have originated in Africa and then spread across the globe with the dispersing populations. For the Neanderthals, however, their ability to produce rock art remains more controversial. Pike et al. (2012) had previously dated Iberian rock art and while most of their samples fell within the H. sapiens presence in Europe (< 41.5 ka), the oldest components of the El Castillo Cave frieze, the red discs at ~40.8 ka (as a minimum), could have potentially been related to either Neanderthals or H. sapiens. In addition, Rodríguez-Vidal et al. (2014) have reported a Neanderthal geometric engraving from Gorham's Cave (Gibraltar) dated to > 39 ka. Recently, Hoffmann et al. (2018a) may have pushed back the origins of cave art in Iberia by another ~20 ka, long before the presence of H. sapiens in Europe. If accepted, this new dating evidence would certainly suggest that Neanderthals were capable of producing painted cave art, and we may now need to re-evaluate other cave art sites in terms of their authorship. However, this is an ongoing debated topic with responses to the Hoffmann et al. (2018a) paper coming from Aubert et al. (2018a) and Slimak et al. (2018) advising caution in accepting the older dates followed by rebuttal papers (Hoffmann et al., 2018c). As with the Châtelperronian debate, at the time of writing, individual researchers will need to decide for themselves where they fall on this issue.
Even if the older cave art dates are accepted, it would seem that Neanderthal cave art was a relatively rare behavioural expression of symbolism, presumably because Neanderthals had a preference for other symbolic outlets that better suited their cultural frameworks, such as personal and body adornment. Interestingly, there is yet to be any evidence for Neanderthal figurative art with the oldest H. sapiens examples (e.g. the Venus of Hohle Fels) dating to ~40 ka (Conard, 2009), which may further highlight differences between the two species’ cultural frameworks for symbolic expression and construction.
By contrast, the evidence for Neanderthal jewellery and personal adornment manufacture has grown in recent years. Radovčić et al. (2015) have suggested that Neanderthals modified the claws of white-tailed eagles at the site of Krapina (Croatia) for use as jewellery dated to at least 130 ka, while additional uses of raptor claws for presumably symbolic purposes come from Combe-Grenal (France) at ~90 ka and Les Fieux (France) at ~60–40 ka (Morin and Laroulandie, 2012). The Neanderthals seemed to have had a clear fascination with certain predatory birds such as raptors, corvids and vultures as well as other birds like wood pigeon and Alpine chough as feather exploitation for symbolic purposes (presumably linked to adornment of people or objects) has been reported from Fumane (Italy) at ~44 ka and Gibraltar (Peresani et al., 2011; Finlayson et al., 2012). In addition, Zilhāo et al. (2010) report the use of perforated (~43 ka) marine shells that must have been transported ~60 km from Antón rockshelter and pigment-stained marine shells from Aviones Cave in the Iberian Peninsula. As the authors readily admit, the Antón assemblage falls within the range of possible overlap with H. sapiens presence in the region. However, recent work on the Aviones assemblage places it beyond the presence of H. sapiens in Iberia at ~115–120 ka (Hoffmann et al., 2018b) and therefore suggests that Neanderthals were independently using pigments and shells for decoration and ornamentation. Further evidence for such complicated Neanderthal behaviour comes again from Fumane Cave (~47–45 ka), where a fossil marine shell was brought to the site from over 100 km away and seems to have been covered in red ochre possibly for personal adornment (Peresani et al., 2013). From the highlighted examples presented here, it is clear that the Neanderthals were apparently cognitively and behaviourally capable of producing personal adornments for at least as long as H. sapiens populations in Africa and the Near East (d’Errico et al., 2001, 2005; Parkington et al., 2005; Vanhaereny et al., 2006; Bouzouggar et al., 2007; Kuhn et al., 2007; Botha, 2008; Henshilwood et al., 2009; d’Errico and Stringer, 2011). They may have done so in technologically different ways to H. sapiens adornment, but the end result must have been the same: to produce a social message about the wearer that was read and understood by a wider community. For such messages to be successfully transmitted within and between hominin groups, it follows that the makers must have had a clear capacity for language and symbolism.
As Villa and Roebroeks (2014) suggest, there is little in the Neanderthal behavioural package that differs significantly from the African Middle Stone Age (associated with H. sapiens) where we have no problem accepting a capacity for language for those populations. There have been many arguments regarding the Neanderthal capacity for language that we do not need to reiterate here (but see Johansson, 2015 for a useful review). However, recent work has suggested that there would seem to be biological support for the Neanderthal ability for speech from D'Anastasio et al. (2013) arising from a new study of the Kebara 2 (Israel) Neanderthal hyoid bone. In addition, from a social and cognitive perspective, Neanderthals were potentially capable of grammatical language (Gowlett et al., 2012; Gamble et al., 2014), further supported by their symbolic material culture production discussed above. Therefore, we should probably consider Neanderthals as a hominin species that had complex communication systems, including the capacity for speech, but we acknowledge here that the exact mechanisms would, of course, be different to those of H. sapiens.
There have been several recent studies that convincingly suggest that the Neanderthals of the late Middle Palaeolithic (~115–39 ka) had a developed sense of distinct cultural identities expressed through the lithic record (Ruebens, 2013, 2014). The distinct cultural groups are the Mousterian of Acheulean Tradition (MTA) for south-west France and north-west into Britain, representing a Mousterian tradition dominated by handaxe manufacture, including the British regional version of the Bout Coupé (White and Jacobi, 2002); the second identified group was the Keilmessergruppen (KMG) from central and eastern Europe, dominated by backed and leaf-shaped bifacial tools; and the third group identified was the Mousterian with Bifacial Tools (MBT) geographically located between the MTA and KMG groups through Belgium and northern France and characterized by a variety of bifacial tools. The studies conclude that the differing typologies of artefacts cannot be accounted for as reflecting raw material or function, but rather the MTA and KMG were two distinct cultural traditions in which the specific concept of bifaces was passed down through the generations. The MBT is interpreted as a border zone where highly mobile Neanderthal groups of the MTA and KMG seem to have interacted. These studies therefore support the notion of distinct regionalized cultural behaviour among late Neanderthal groups in Western Europe as defined through the lithic record.
There are indications from other behavioural practices of the Neanderthals that may also suggest the presence of distinct cultural groups. One of these avenues of research revolves around the treatment of the dead. Despite controversy over whether Neanderthals buried their dead (e.g. Gargett, 1999), it has now been generally accepted that Neanderthals (or at least some of them) engaged in mortuary practices (Pettitt, 2010). Furthermore, the Neanderthal treatment of the dead seems to be geographically and temporally variable, where practices range from non-burial; caching of body parts; inhumation without grave goods – perhaps utilizing natural features; deliberate burial with grave goods; and skeletal defleshing, through space (evidence has been found in western, central and eastern Europe as well as the Near East) and time (~115–40 ka; Pettitt, 2002, 2010).
However, Neanderthals did not just bury their dead, they also engaged in other forms of mortuary treatment of the remains such as cannibalism (Cole, 2017b; Saladié and Rodríguez-Hidalgo, 2017). What is of further interest is that even within the acts of cannibalism, there may well be a range of motivations with interpretations ranging from survival cannibalism (Rosas et al., 2006; Defleur and Desclaux, 2019) to nutritional cannibalism (as part of the diet) (Barroso and de Lumley, 2006; Maureille et al., 2007; Rougier et al., 2016; Rodríguez et al., 2019). The case of Troisième caverne of Goyet (Belgium) (~45.5–40.5 ka; Rougier et al., 2016) is additionally intriguing due to the processing of the Neanderthal carcasses and the production of bone tools from the Neanderthal remains, which were used as soft hammers to knap stone tools. Rougier et al. (2016) also point out that the cannibalistic treatment of the Neanderthal remains at this site seems to be different to the post-mortem treatment of Neanderthal remains at other sites in the region, which are either non-existent (Walou Cave and Trou de l’Abîme – Belgium), possible burial (Feldhofer – Germany) or active burial (Spy – Belgium). From isotope analyses it would appear that the consumed from Goyet had a foreign origin (so possible exocannibalism) and were perhaps slaughtered by the local inhabitants, presumably another group of Neanderthals or possibly even an unknown group of H. sapiens (Wißing et al., 2019). There have been previous arguments that even when acts of cannibalism have been assigned to survival or nutritional labels, that there may well be social or cultural motivations that contribute to and underpin the consumptive act (Cole, 2017b). Therefore, there is a great deal of behavioural complexity surrounding the Neanderthal treatment of the dead in both time and space. At the time of writing, the only other species that seems to have an equally diverse range of motivations and post-mortem treatment of human bodies is our own (but see van Leeuwen et al., 2017 for an example of chimpanzee practice).
McBrearty and Brooks (2000) highlight that systematic ochre use is a key component of what may be considered modern human behaviour. d’Errico et al. (2010) and d’Errico and Stringer (2011) conducted useful reviews of Neanderthal and H. sapiens pigment use, which highlighted more than 40 Middle Palaeolithic sites from MIS 6 to 3 or ~160–30 ka, some with vast quantities such as 450 pieces (250 of which show use) from Pech de l’Azé I (France) (see also Villa and Roebroeks, 2014: S1). In addition, Roebroeks et al. (2012) have shown that Neanderthals may well have been exploiting haematite at Maastricht-Belvédère (the Netherlands) from ~250 to 200 ka. In which case, the Neanderthal exploitation of ochres and pigments would seem to match in time the exploitation of such resources in the African record (Barham, 1998, 2002). The reasons for ochre or pigment use has been much debated ranging from medicinal, as a preservative in hide processing, an adhesive in composite tool-making and social signalling (Velo, 1984; Minzoni-Déroche et al., 1995; Callahan, 1999; Barham, 2002; Barham, 2010; Kuhn et al., 2007). However, it is interesting to note that from the ethnographic record, the use of pigments has always had a primary use in social signalling rather than the signalling arising as a secondary purpose (Knight et al., 1995; Barham, 2002). This would certainly seem to be the case at Cioarei-Boroşteni Cave (Romania) dated to ~47 ka, where a geode has been deliberately painted with red ochre (the authors suggest for some symbolic meaning) and where ochre preparation containers have been suggested from the upper components of stalagmites (Cârciumaru et al., 2015). This behaviour apparently dates before the arrival of H. sapiens in the region and therefore, if symbolic, could suggest that Neanderthals were an independently symbolic species before the arrival of H. sapiens in Europe (and see below).
One of the major markers of modern human behaviour still remains the ability to produce art. Currently, the earliest evidence for engraving comes from the H. erectus site of Trinil, ~540–430 ka (Joordens et al., 2015), where a geometric engraving has been carved into a freshwater mussel shell. Although a lone instance (so far), the act of engraving has some intriguing implications for the origins of deliberate pattern production in non-H. sapiens species. Cave art and rock art are still seen to be the benchmarks of art production, where it was previously thought that the earliest evidence for such behaviour came from north-west Europe ~40–35 ka (see references in Pike et al., 2012; García-Diez et al., 2013), although recent research from Sulawesi (Indonesia) and Borneo has shown that rock art is also present in the South-East Asia from at least ~40 ka (Aubert et al., 2014, 2018b) with evidence of ochre use from Madjedbebe Rockshelter in Australia from ~65 ka (Clarkson et al., 2017). This would suggest, therefore, that the H. sapiens behavioural package including rock art may well have originated in Africa and then spread across the globe with the dispersing populations. For the Neanderthals, however, their ability to produce rock art remains more controversial. Pike et al. (2012) had previously dated Iberian rock art and while most of their samples fell within the H. sapiens presence in Europe (< 41.5 ka), the oldest components of the El Castillo Cave frieze, the red discs at ~40.8 ka (as a minimum), could have potentially been related to either Neanderthals or H. sapiens. In addition, Rodríguez-Vidal et al. (2014) have reported a Neanderthal geometric engraving from Gorham's Cave (Gibraltar) dated to > 39 ka. Recently, Hoffmann et al. (2018a) may have pushed back the origins of cave art in Iberia by another ~20 ka, long before the presence of H. sapiens in Europe. If accepted, this new dating evidence would certainly suggest that Neanderthals were capable of producing painted cave art, and we may now need to re-evaluate other cave art sites in terms of their authorship. However, this is an ongoing debated topic with responses to the Hoffmann et al. (2018a) paper coming from Aubert et al. (2018a) and Slimak et al. (2018) advising caution in accepting the older dates followed by rebuttal papers (Hoffmann et al., 2018c). As with the Châtelperronian debate, at the time of writing, individual researchers will need to decide for themselves where they fall on this issue.
Even if the older cave art dates are accepted, it would seem that Neanderthal cave art was a relatively rare behavioural expression of symbolism, presumably because Neanderthals had a preference for other symbolic outlets that better suited their cultural frameworks, such as personal and body adornment. Interestingly, there is yet to be any evidence for Neanderthal figurative art with the oldest H. sapiens examples (e.g. the Venus of Hohle Fels) dating to ~40 ka (Conard, 2009), which may further highlight differences between the two species’ cultural frameworks for symbolic expression and construction.
By contrast, the evidence for Neanderthal jewellery and personal adornment manufacture has grown in recent years. Radovčić et al. (2015) have suggested that Neanderthals modified the claws of white-tailed eagles at the site of Krapina (Croatia) for use as jewellery dated to at least 130 ka, while additional uses of raptor claws for presumably symbolic purposes come from Combe-Grenal (France) at ~90 ka and Les Fieux (France) at ~60–40 ka (Morin and Laroulandie, 2012). The Neanderthals seemed to have had a clear fascination with certain predatory birds such as raptors, corvids and vultures as well as other birds like wood pigeon and Alpine chough as feather exploitation for symbolic purposes (presumably linked to adornment of people or objects) has been reported from Fumane (Italy) at ~44 ka and Gibraltar (Peresani et al., 2011; Finlayson et al., 2012). In addition, Zilhāo et al. (2010) report the use of perforated (~43 ka) marine shells that must have been transported ~60 km from Antón rockshelter and pigment-stained marine shells from Aviones Cave in the Iberian Peninsula. As the authors readily admit, the Antón assemblage falls within the range of possible overlap with H. sapiens presence in the region. However, recent work on the Aviones assemblage places it beyond the presence of H. sapiens in Iberia at ~115–120 ka (Hoffmann et al., 2018b) and therefore suggests that Neanderthals were independently using pigments and shells for decoration and ornamentation. Further evidence for such complicated Neanderthal behaviour comes again from Fumane Cave (~47–45 ka), where a fossil marine shell was brought to the site from over 100 km away and seems to have been covered in red ochre possibly for personal adornment (Peresani et al., 2013). From the highlighted examples presented here, it is clear that the Neanderthals were apparently cognitively and behaviourally capable of producing personal adornments for at least as long as H. sapiens populations in Africa and the Near East (d’Errico et al., 2001, 2005; Parkington et al., 2005; Vanhaereny et al., 2006; Bouzouggar et al., 2007; Kuhn et al., 2007; Botha, 2008; Henshilwood et al., 2009; d’Errico and Stringer, 2011). They may have done so in technologically different ways to H. sapiens adornment, but the end result must have been the same: to produce a social message about the wearer that was read and understood by a wider community. For such messages to be successfully transmitted within and between hominin groups, it follows that the makers must have had a clear capacity for language and symbolism.
As Villa and Roebroeks (2014) suggest, there is little in the Neanderthal behavioural package that differs significantly from the African Middle Stone Age (associated with H. sapiens) where we have no problem accepting a capacity for language for those populations. There have been many arguments regarding the Neanderthal capacity for language that we do not need to reiterate here (but see Johansson, 2015 for a useful review). However, recent work has suggested that there would seem to be biological support for the Neanderthal ability for speech from D'Anastasio et al. (2013) arising from a new study of the Kebara 2 (Israel) Neanderthal hyoid bone. In addition, from a social and cognitive perspective, Neanderthals were potentially capable of grammatical language (Gowlett et al., 2012; Gamble et al., 2014), further supported by their symbolic material culture production discussed above. Therefore, we should probably consider Neanderthals as a hominin species that had complex communication systems, including the capacity for speech, but we acknowledge here that the exact mechanisms would, of course, be different to those of H. sapiens.