Abstract
Introduction
Ever since the emergence of post-positivist approaches in the late 1980s (Lapid, 1989), the use of Michel Foucault’s work has been extensive in International Relations (IR) scholarship (Bonditti et al., 2017; Fournier, 2012). Yet this broad reception is marked by a puzzling imbalance. The bulk of Foucauldian IR has favored genealogy, governmentality, and more eclectic notions of discourse, at the expense of archeology. As a result, engagements with Foucault’s early archeological writings and the elaborate meta-theoretical reflections that he assembled in
In this article, I address this research gap by exploring what is at stake in archeology as a critical mode of inquiry and I argue that returning to archeology bears unexplored, critical, and creative potentials for IR, International Political Sociology (IPS) and the study of global politics more broadly. Specifically, I aim to show that archeology aids in the craft of political ontologies: it invites us to study the power-ridden emergence of all things social, whose existence we may usually take for granted. Archeology can be mobilized to carve out interpretative strategies and conceptual tools that render visible how objects, concepts, peoples, and places that make up IR’s worlds are relationally constituted products of power and history. To spell out the potentials of archeology, I draw on Ian Hacking, Johanna Oksala, and left-Heideggerian interpretations of Foucault’s work in social theory and political philosophy. I propose to understand archeology as a mode of inquiry that is concerned with the
Returning to archeology and taking it seriously as a way of conducting critical (IR) research has several advantages. First, as I will argue at greater length below, archeology moves beyond linguistic interpretations of discourse as text and meaning that continue to haunt discursive approaches across IR and neighboring disciplines (Vaughan-Williams and Lundborg, 2015). Conceived as a counter-project to the history of ideas and hermeneutic interpretation, archeology invites us to conceive of discourse and matter as co-constituted and emergent in practice. Second, archeology allows to grasp constitutive power in ways that escape a genealogical gaze. Genealogies provide alternative destabilizing histories of the present by uncovering forgotten struggles and knowledges, hence allow to question the progressive nature of contemporary practices, truths, and value judgments (Bevir, 2008; Foucault, 1977; Saar, 2008a). The promise of archeology instead lies in illuminating the constitution of social entities through the analysis of local discursive formations, hence unearthing how they are always already imbued with and forged through power relations (see below, 7–8). Third, turning to archeology has
In returning to archeology, this article speaks to two strands of IR scholarship. First and foremost, it advances the encompassing and prominent discussion of Foucault’s place in the study of international politics by critically reviewing the place of archeology in the discipline and suggesting how it may be popularized as a mode of inquiry. Second, in formulating interpretative strategies and practical guidance for how archeology may be mobilized by others, I join in recent calls for reconceptualizing and renewing attention to methodology broadly conceived as the art of conduct in critical IR research (Alejandro, 2021; Andrä, 2022a; Aradau and Huysmans, 2013, 2019; Austin and Leander, 2023; Gani and Khan, 2024; Weber, 2016a). In explicating what archeology entails as a philosophical outlook and sketching out
The article proceeds as follows. First, I review the reception of archeology in IR, and I discuss the place of archeology in Foucault’s overall intellectual trajectory (2). Thereafter, I turn to the archeological writings and their reception social theory and philosophy to spell out what is at stake in archeology as a mode of inquiry (3). The next section elaborates upon how archeology can be mobilized in the study of international politics (4). Finally, the concluding epilogue reflects on the politics of archeology (5).
A state of the art: the place of archeology in IR scholarship and Foucault’s intellectual trajectory
Few social theorists have made a greater imprint on the social sciences and humanities during the last decades than Michel Foucault. This is also true for IR and international studies, where the reception of Foucauldian ideas has inspired a wealth of productive research programs (for an overview, see Bonditti et al., 2017; Fournier, 2012). Thereby, the bulk of Foucauldian IR scholarship has focused on later themes in Foucault’s writings, in particular on genealogy (Bartelson, 2015; Claudia and van Munster, 2011; Der Derian, 1987; Vucetic, 2011; Wedderburn, 2018) and governmentality (Bigo, 2002; Dean, 2017; Jaeger, 2023; Joseph, 2012; Merlingen, 2003; Sending and Neumann, 2006; Walters, 2012), but also biopolitics (Jaeger, 2010; Mavelli, 2017), sexuality (Weber, 2016b), and (neo-)liberalism (Gros, 2017; McFalls and Pandolfi, 2017; Mavelli, 2017). Despite IR’s continuous tendency toward an “untidy proliferation of research strategies” (Walker, 1993: 6), archeology never became a fashionable buzzword, or an organizing concept tying together one of the discipline’s many theoretical “turns” (Epstein and Wæver, 2025) or more dispersed “campfires” (Sylvester, 2007). Instead, the work that Foucault developed in
To survey existing uses of the archeological writings, let us start with discursive IR. Since the “advent of discourse” in the 1990s and early 2000s (Holzscheiter, 2010: 6; Milliken, 1999),
More in-depth engagements with the archeological writings can instead be found elsewhere in the discipline. These contributions can be divided into two main strands. First, historically inclined IR scholars have engaged with the empirical diagnostics that arose from Foucault’s (1966b) archeological work, notably his account of the human sciences as a new formation in the “history of the order imposed on things” (p. xxv). For both Beate Jahn and Nicholas Onuf,
Second, other pioneering contributions have made productive use of the archeological writings by selectively borrowing and tailoring some of the concepts, theoretical notions, or lines of reasoning that they offer. An early example of this second strand of archeologically inspired IR is Jens Bartleson’s (1995)
While the bulk of Foucauldian IR has favored genealogy, governmentality and later themes in his work, a closer look at the different ways in which existing contributions have put the archeological writings to work lends further support to the contention that there is something valuable to be learnt from taking archeology more seriously as a way of conducting critical research into the workings of global politics. What is still lacking for the discipline to realize this critical and creative potential is a more in-depth and focused discussion of what archeology entails as a mode of inquiry that would open up a space for scholarly dialogue around the theoretical-political stakes and the “how to” of archeological work in the discipline. Notably, this would involve clarifying what archeology offers as a theoretical outlook, a research ethos, and a collection of conceptual tools and interpretative strategies that might guide and inspire future research endeavors.
In the rest of this article, I provide such a discussion in the hope inspiring scholars in IR, IPS and beyond to reengage with archeology. Thereby, the account of archeology and its creative potentials that I develop is not primarily a reconstruction of what, more exactly, Foucault might have intended for archeology to be, but rather a series of proposals, reflections and ideas for promising things to tous mes livres sont . . . si vous voulez, comme de petites boîtes à outils. Si les gens veulent bien les ouvrir, se servir de telle phrase, telle idée, telle analyse comme d’un tournevis ou d’un desserre-boulon pour court-circuiter, disqualifier, casser les systèmes de pouvoir, y compris éventuellement ceux-là mêmes dont mes livres sont issus . . . eh bien, c’est tant mieux. (Foucault, 1994: 309)
Although such a creative ethos of tailoring and appropriating is therefore very much in the spirit of Foucault, the reading of archeology that I develop below is not entirely uncontroversial. Notably, it deviates from influential early interpretations of Foucault that see archeology as a (failed) structuralist project that is concerned with “autonomous discourse” and privilege his later genealogical work from
Unlike such readings, I do not see archeology and genealogy as conflicting theoretical or political projects. Taking issue with descriptions of Foucault’s intellectual trajectory as a move from archeologies of knowledge to genealogies of power, I see archeology and genealogy as complementary modes of critical inquiry that are united through a sustained engagement with the historical and power-ridden nature of language and world (Foucault, 1976: 10–11, 1994; Oksala, 2022; Prozorov, 2004: 32). Genealogy invites us to question the “metaphysical origins” and progressive nature of contemporary practices by unearthing forgotten and subjugated knowledges, hence rewriting the history of the present (Foucault, 1976, 1977). As Martin Saar puts it, genealogies craft critical histories of the present that aim to confront their audience “with a narrative of power about its very own history” hence “call[ing] into question current judgments, institutions and practices” (Saar, 2008a: 95, 98). The promise of archeology, instead, lies in offering a wealth of interpretative tools and strategies for the analysis of local discursive formations (Foucault, 1976: 10), hence aiding in the craftmanship of historical ontologies. Archeology allows to grasp constitutive power in ways that escape a genealogical gaze: it politicizes the order of words and things, 1 rather than the writing of their histories. The fact that Foucault himself moved on to other themes in his later scholarship, thus, is no reason not to reengage with his early writings today. On the contrary, since genealogy is rather well rehearsed in IR and beyond (Bartelson, 1995; Bevir, 2008; Der Derian, 1987; Saar, 2008b; Vucetic, 2011), today, it seems much more urgent and promising to reengage with archeology as another central component in Foucault’s scholarly repertoire.
The promise of archeology: history, politics, and ontology
How can archeology be grasped as a mode of inquiry and what does it offer to IR today? Like many related fields of study, IR has been marked by a narrow, linguistic understanding of discourse as text and meaning that is “attached to,” interprets and represents material realities (for a notable exception, see Aradau et al., 2015; for an excellent discussion and thorough literature review, see Vaughan-Williams and Lundborg, 2015). It is therefore worth recalling that Foucault explicitly and repeatedly positioned archeology and the task of unearthing “discursive formations” as a counter-project to the “history of ideas,” hermeneutics, and the analysis of language (“langage,” Foucault, 1966b: x, 1972: 135–140, 2012: xvii). If we follow Foucault (1972), archeology: tries to define
Archeology is therefore not concerned with text, perception or language as separable from practice or material realities. Instead, it directs our attention towards constitutive discursive “regularities” that are understood as “practices that systematically form the objects of which they speak” (Foucault, 1972: 48–49). Engaging in archeological inquiry thus involves seeking to grasp discursive relations that are “immanent in practice” and determine the conditions that make it possible for social entities to emerge as something that can be referred to, oriented toward or acted upon; something that is “manifest, nameable, and describable” (Foucault, 1972: 41, 46, see also Pantzerhielm, 2024).
Most properly, archeology can therefore be understood as a mode of analysis that is concerned with the
In social theory and philosophy, Ian Hacking and Johanna Oksala have developed sophisticated readings of Foucault that put questions of social ontology center stage. Hacking’s work draws inspiration from Foucault’s (1984) notion of an “historical ontology of ourselves” to ponder how “’we’ constitute ourselves” as subjects (Hacking, 2002: 2). For Hacking most things 3 that we usually take for granted come into being historically. Once they exist in an objectified form, they may unfold powerful effects that determine who it is “possible to be” in a particular context. Hacking’s examples are often taken from the history of science. Objects of scientific inquiry, such as “probability,” psychological “trauma,” and “childhood development,” he insists, did not exist in any recognizable form before they were, at a particular point in time, created as phenomena. Hacking’s reading of archeology is particularly useful since it underlines the materiality of such a historically created world, emphasizing that “we are not talking about language” as such, but of “institutions, practices, and very material objects” (Hacking, 2002: 22, 2006).
To highlight the political implications of the view that social phenomena and relations are ontologically contingent and historically produced, it is fruitful to turn to Johanna Oksala’s left-Heideggerian reading of Foucault’s critical project.
4
For Oksala, the main import of Foucault’s historical ontology of ourselves is that it “politicizes” social reality: it denaturalizes by rejecting all given foundations, instead inviting us to conceive of social constellations and forms of subjectivity as resulting from historically malleable power relations. In other words, social practices always incorporate power relations, which become constitutive of forms of the subject as well as domains and objects of knowledge. (Oksala, 2010: 447)
Following these readings, the promise of archeology is thus explicitly not to analyze “meaning” or linguistic representations of reality, but to unearth how social constellations are always already political by uncovering the relational constitution and historical emergence of social entities. It exposes how constitutive power relations bring forth social reality, insisting that “ontology is politics that has forgotten itself” (Oksala, 2010: 445). In this sense, I understand archeology as a mode of inquiry that aims to “disrupt” (Aradau and Huysmans, 2013) as it renders visible how the world we know, navigate, and study is imbued with and forged through power relations.
That said, language is still of outmost importance in archeology. Concepts, distinctions, and classifications order the realities that we inhabit, they allow for us to make sense of things, they help create phenomena. They delineate who it is possible to be and what it makes sense to do in a given place and time (Epstein, 2013a; Hacking, 2002). Yet the relation between language and world suggested by archeology is much more dynamic than is commonly assumed in linguistic interpretations of discourse, and it has little in common with the discursive idealism that undergirds constructivist allusions to the “power of ideas.” Language is powerful. But some concepts, textual and verbal descriptions are clearly more successful and politically consequential than others, and transformations in material things, buildings and artifacts, non-human events and processes, quantified economic relations, social practices, and institutions “speak back,” demanding and giving rise to new terms and characterizations.
To illustrate this point, consider Foucault’s (1988) “history of insanity” in
Archeology as a mode of inquiry
Criticism is no longer going to be practiced in the search for formal structures with universal value, but rather as a historical investigation into the events that have led us to constitute ourselves and to recognize ourselves as subjects of what we are doing, thinking, saying. (Foucault, 1994:, n.p.)
Archeological inquiry therefore invites us to reconstruct discursive formations, understood as “practices that systematically form the objects of which they speak” with the goal of crafting political ontologies: that is, critical accounts of constitutive power relations that permeate and produce the social worlds that we inhabit (Foucault, 1972: 48, 1984). How can such a reading of archeology be mobilized in concrete research endeavors in IR, IPS and neighboring disciplines that grapple with understanding and critiquing the worlds of global politics? In this section, I develop four interpretative strategies that archeological research endeavors may employ: (1) the formation of objects, (2) the formation of concepts, (3) the formation of subject positions, and (4) the formation of social realms. Given the scant methodological reception of archeology (Koopman, 2015), I build directly on
In
In the spirit of viewing theoretical concepts and interpretative strategies as dynamic lines of thinking and doing research, and as malleable devises to be shared, adjusted, and further manipulated, I therefore draw selectively on Foucault’s writings. Moreover, I read Foucault beyond Foucault in reflecting upon how the pathways he used and suggested can be (and have been) tailored to the needs and interests of contemporary IR and IPS researchers, along with other social scientists who grapple with the spatial (“global,” “international,” “transnational”) dimensions of politics.
Interpretative strategy I: the formation of objects
In an archeological sense, objects can be understood as socio-material entities that are rendered “manifest, nameable, and describable” through discursive practices (Foucault, 1972: 42, 44). Once forged, objects may be differently understood and valuated. But they constitute something that it is possible to speak about and oriented toward, and they unfold effects that go beyond a simple addition of human actions (Pantzerhielm, 2023). To the archeologist, objects are interesting for two interconnected reasons: first, they change, appear, and disappear over time. For instance, if we follow Foucault (1988), there was no such thing as “hysteria” before the 19th century, and, if we follow Hacking, no “probability” before the 17th century (Hacking, 2006). Second, objects have productive effects. It matters whether certain objects exist or not, for instance, whether people (mainly women) who exhibit certain characteristics and behaviors are diagnosed, medically treated and socially regarded as suffering from “hysteria.” Or whether pandemic response policies, practices of border security or economic governance can be organized, legislated, and policed according to “probability” calculations.
To render these insights fruitful and generative, the formation of objects can be mapped out and analyzed in three complementary ways:
To illustrate how the formation of objects can be put to work, let us consider
Interpretative strategy II: the formation of concepts
Concepts, their inter-relations and transformations over time provide another fruitful interpretive toolset for archeological analysis. The scholarly and historical use of concepts is a central problem in a range of paradigms, including Koselleckian theorizing on basic historical concepts (“geschichtliche Grundbegriffe”), Cambridge school contextualism, Marxist accounts of reification and concrete abstraction, as well as methodological discussions in the social sciences on the critical, reflexive use of concepts (Alejandro, 2021; Bell, 2002; Berenskoetter, 2017; Kessler, 2021). To the archeologist, concepts are of interest since they are at once historically contingent and constitutive, thus intertwining with power relations. Through enactments in practices and materialization in social institutions, concepts provide classifications and distinctions that (re)order, render knowable and thus help bring forth social realities. Conceptual distinctions and classifications penetrate the realities we inhabit in different ways: depending on the context, they may tell us where things and people are (not) allowed, or supposed to circulate and reside, whether someone’s rights have been violated (or not), or what (if any) medical treatment they ought to receive.
In research-practical terms, the formation of concepts can be approached in three different ways that mirror those just discussed with regard to objects:
To understand how archeological analyses of concepts may unfold,
Recently, ontological theorizing in anthropology has afforded similar insights in a synchronic and ethnographic, rather than diachronic and historical register (Henare et al., 2006; Holbraad and Pedersen, 2017). The central proposition of the so-called “ontological turn” in anthropology is that it is not only knowledge of the world, but also being and existence as such, that varies across contexts (“worlds as well as worldviews,” Heywood, 2017: 2). This sensitivity to multiple cosmologies in the present is a much-needed opening that may guide and inspire the conduct archeological inquiries that seek to decenter the Eurocentric one-world ontology that has marked both IR and Western philosophy, including Foucault writings. If Foucault made productive use of archeology to grasp the classical episteme as distinct from its modern successor, scholars working toward a “global” (Acharya and Buzan, 2019) or “pluriversal” turn in IR (Trownsell et al., 2022) may find it useful to uncover the coexistence of many worlds and constitutive conceptual “tabulae” in the present. In this sense, I see great potentials for archaeologies in IPS and IR to go beyond the European experience that constituted the privileged object of inquiry in Foucault’s writings (for two pertinent critiques, Said, 1986; Spivak, 1988).
Interpretative strategy III: the formation of subject positions
Another promising interpretive strategy that can be probed by archeologically inclined scholars is the formation of subject positions. As an approach that aims to “suspend of all accepted unities” (Foucault, 1972), archeology does away with the author, the rational actor and the Cartesian subject (for a pertinent discussion that theorizes divergent notions of agency in IR, see Epstein, 2013b). Instead, practices that bring forth modes of speaking, acting, and conducting oneself within a given discursive formation become the object of interest: the various statuses, the various sites, the various positions that he [the subject] can occupy or be given when making a discourse [. . .] the discontinuity of the planes from which he speaks. (Foucault, 1972: 54)
In the archeological writings, Foucault uses several synonymous and overlapping terms to describe this decentering of the subject. 5 Yet the essence of what is at stake here is perhaps most clearly and elegantly captured in Hacking’s notion of “making up people” (Hacking, 2002: 99–114). What kind of person one can be differs across social contexts: categories of people, like “multiple personalities” (Hacking’s example), “terrorists,” or “human rights defenders” are the result of historical processes. They need to be “invented” to exist in a social sense—their existence being ontologically premised and brought forth through the discursive formation that they form part of. The interest here is therefore not in specific “actors,” their thoughts or (social) identity, but in the “specificity of a discursive practice” (Foucault, 1972: 55) that makes it possible “to see and to say” within the horizon of a certain “experience” (Foucault, 1973: xiii–xiv).
The notion of subject positions therefore destabilizes the subject-object distinction central to the positivist social sciences ever since its first articulation in Comte (2022), instead inviting a view of both subject and object as relationally constituted products of power and history. More specifically, it differs from the broad constructivist and poststructuralist literature on the formation of collective identities in IR (through practices of othering, common/divergent values), as well as from governmentality-theoretical analyses of “subjectivation” that draw on Foucault’s (2009a, 2009b) later work. These strands of theorizing grapple with fundamental questions about subjectivity and authenticity, domination and resistance in the entanglements between historical technologies of government and technologies of the self (Dean, 1994; Lemke, 2007; Reckwitz, 2016; Rose, 1996).
In contrast, the task confronting the archeologist with regard to subject positions and their formation is to uncover the contingent emergence of possibilities for how one is placed in relation to others; ways of being that individuals may seek to enact, act as and become, or that they may be assigned to by others. Subject positions are of interest to the archeologist since they are intimately intertwined with power relations through the (re)drawing of boundaries between truth and falsehood, virtue and heresy. Some positions render persons assigned to them mute, excluded or the target of disciplinary, bureaucratic practices of control. Others enable the “discoursing subject” to advance authoritative truth claims.
The following three steps can serve as a heuristic guide for archeological analyses of subject positions:
To illustrate what making subject positions the focus of archeological research might entail,
Interpretative strategy IV: the formation of social realms
Ever since the emergence of post-positivist IR, Foucault has been a recurring source of inspiration for critical scholarship on the history and political import of a distinct “international” sphere (Ashley, 1988; Der Derian and Shapiro, 1989; Walker, 1993). At the same time, the “scaling up” of Foucault to IR has been the subject of debate and skepticism, while postcolonial scholars in IR and elsewhere have critiqued the absence of empire and colonial relations in Foucault’s analyses of modern power (Jabri, 2007; Said, 1986; Spivak, 1988). How can archeologically inspired research projects that situate themselves in IR, IPS or adjacent fields grapple with the scalar and spatial dimension of politics that are so much at heart of these disciplines?
Read as a mode of analysis that is concerned with the groundlessness and emergence of the worlds we inhabit, archeology suggests making distinctions between social realms an object of analysis rather than a theoretical
Archeological inquiries into the formation of social realms can proceed along three lines:
To illustrate what making the formation of social realms an object of archeological inquiry might entail, it is useful to consider the work of one of Foucault’s foremost students and greatest critics: literary scholar and postcolonial theorist Edward Said. Said’s writings draw heavily on Foucault’s methodology and analysis of power (for an early appraisal of Foucault and his archeological method, see Said, 1972). But Said also grew vehemently opposed by what he saw as Foucault’s omission of colonial power relations and his privileging of the European intellectual and political tradition. In his vastly influential treaties (. . .) if we agree that all things in history, like history itself, are made by men, then we will appreciate how possible it is for many objects or places or times to be assigned roles and be given meanings that acquire objective validity only
More specifically, Said’s account illustrates that there can be no “West” without its Eastern, oriental” Other. As imagined, but real, social realms Orient and Occident are dichotomously constituted, one receiving meaning and form as a mirror picture of the other. Moreover, distinctions between them are inscribed and upheld through the attribution of things, peoples, and propensities to either side of this divide: the Orient becomes the home of ancient culture, fallen or oppressed women, irrational and despotic politics, while the West figures as the haven of rational inquiry, morality, freedom, and modernity. In terms of empirical materials considered, Said’s (1972, 1979) analysis cuts across practices of academic knowledge production, culture, (neo)colonial management, and control. His imaginative geography can thus serve as a point of inspiration and illustration for how to spatialize archeology as method, highlighting the emergent ontological and political quality of spatial and scalar distinctions.
Table 1 summarizes the archeological toolbox that I have laid out in the preceding pages. The sensitizing “guiding questions” in the right-hand column can inform consecutive steps of analysis or be selectively drawn upon depending on the research interest at hand. They also offer possibilities and sources of inspiration for the formulation of research questions and problématiques. The interpretative tools assembled below are offered here in the spirit of sharing and experimentation, to be adjusted and remolded by others—not as a strict guideline for what one must do and see to “be an archeologist.”
Mobilizing the rules of formation—tools for analysis.
Practicing archeology: methodological principles and the research process
This section offers some more practical reflections on the wider process of archeological research endeavors. Thereby, I will touch upon
Circularity
The notion that theory and methods, empirical analysis, conclusions, and research problématiques entertain a dynamic, circular (rather than linear) relation is well established across post-positivist approaches in the social sciences (Glynos and Howarth, 2007; Schwartz-Shea and Yanow, 2011). This principle also holds true for archeological inquiries. In archeology, the relations from which entities derive their contours and existence are the very object of analysis, rather than an
What kinds of empirical material?
Scholarly inquiries that focus on epistemic, linguistic aspects of discourse can be fruitfully employed as text analyses in the narrower sense of the term. In such philosophically cautious, epistemic readings of discourse, the analyst devotes herself more narrowly to the (dis)continuities that constitute something
To illustrate what this might look like, consider the materials Foucault discusses in
The empirics analyzed to unearth this transformation are markedly heterogenous. They include different ways of dissecting brains and bodies, practices of medical treatment, diagnostics and observation, buildings, rooms, tools and instruments, the shape of bodily tissues and fluids, laws and regulations of medical education, academic controversies, struggles over material resources among clerical and academic institutions, practices of control and information collection in early “policing,” appointments of health inspectors, as well as the emergence of new categories and distinctions, such as the modern opposition between “normal” and “pathological” (Foucault, 1973). Next to archival research and the analysis of scholarly writings, IR archaeologies can thus consider a wide range of different strategies for assembling empirical materials, such as narrative interviews, digital ethnographies, participant observation, analyses of visual art and performance, literature and theater, public buildings and (non)digital infrastructures, procedural appraisals of bureaucratic routines and quantitative accounts of financial relations—to provide an obviously incomplete list. In this regard, I believe there is considerable room for further experimentation and creativity.
Transversality
For archeological research endeavors, the nature of the delineation process itself might be more crucial than the kind of empirical materials one chooses to analyze. Tracing discursive formations in the archeological sense makes it necessary to reconstruct relations and the entities that emerge from them, rather than to presuppose their existence. The delineation and analysis of empirical materials therefore need to be closely intertwined. Instead of taking familiar distinctions and entities for granted, the archeological gaze invites us to trace relations across familiar conceptual distinctions, institutional venues and realms of knowledge. That is, to “question all those divisions and groups with which we have become so familiar” (Foucault, 1972: 22). The aim here is to “individualize” a discursive formation, that is to determine its borders inductively, based in the very practices and materials one has chosen to study (on the notion of transversality as “cutting across” spaces and framings, see Bigo and Walker, 2007; Hoffmann, 2022). A useful technique to put this into concrete research practice is to read “at the borders” of what is said and enacted (Der Derian and Shapiro, 1989; Hansen, 2006; Herschinger, 2011). In practical terms, “reading across” involves paying close attention to shared assumptions and unexpected commonalities among seemingly opposed positions and disparate practices. To speak with Foucault, reading across aims at excavating the borders of discursive formations, i.e. what it makes sense to say and do in a given social context (Foucault, 1972).
Reflexivity
How can the aspiring archeologist be reflexive about her social positionality? IR engagements with “reflexivity” add up to a substantial literature and understandings of what reflexivity implies varies (for two pertinent discussions, see Alejandro, 2021; Hamati-Ataya, 2013). Therefore, it is instructive to note that archeology shares with the broader range of Foucauldian approaches the ethical commitment to ‘dig under one’s own feet.’ In a discussion of Nietzsche’s genealogy, Foucault set out to perform: “un travail d’excavation sous ses propres pieds pour établir comment s’etait constitué” (Foucault, 1969). The ethical starting point is thus to provide a destabilizing diagnostic of the present. In this sense, archaeologies can be employed to question and estrange the researcher from her own received ethical and normative commitments, as part of a given society or a certain age. Archaeologies, of course, cannot start from “nowhere” (Nagel, 1986). However, if conducted well, archeology can be used as a toolbox to actively displace one’s starting points by unearthing their contingent and power-ridden emergence.
An archeological commitment to reflexivity thus implies a critical engagement with the specificity and non-necessity of the social worlds we analyze and inhabit. However, it is not “reflexive” in an auto-biographical or dialectic sense of the word. In a stricter sense, it does not do much to help the researcher to grapple with her own
Epilogue: notions of critique and the politics of archeology
In this article, I have made the case for returning to archeology and taking it seriously as a mode of inquiry that aids in the craft of political ontologies and bears untapped critical and creative potentials for the study of global politics. Thereby, my aim was explicitly not to police the art of scholarly inquiry by providing any strict advice on “does and don’ts” or a linear “application” of archeological theory to IR (for a critique of applicationist research strategies, see Leander, 2020). Instead, by explicating what archeology entails and developing detailed guidance for how it can be mobilized by others, I have sought to open up a space for scholarly dialogue around the theoretical-political stakes and the “how to” of archeological work in the discipline. In doings so, I have sought to push the broad reception of Foucauldian ideas in the discipline in novel, creative and theoretically generative directions. Moreover, I also joined in recent calls for an intensified, creative and unorthodox exchange about the analytical tools and interpretive procedures that enable and coproduce IR as a discipline.
To conclude, I would like to dwell briefly on the specific notion of critique that informs archeology. In what sense is archeology a
As with any theoretical inroad or art of inquiry, archeology renders some struggles present, while others are concealed. As Anna Leander (2008) puts it: “One does not drill holes with a hammer or fix nails with a drill” (p. 12). Indeed, there are many legitimate, even urgent, tasks of critical inquiry in the present that archaeologies are ill-suitable to achieve. To mention just one example, neo-Marxist approaches are much better suited to account for the persistence of staggering global inequalities, the entrenched powers of transnational elites and the coevolution of capitalist development and the international sphere (Cox, 1981; Rosenberg, 2021; Sklair, 2001; Teschke, 2003) in ways that necessarily escape the archeological gaze. As a research field and community, IR is thus well advised to retain, care for, pluralize and further extend the collection of interpretative tools at its disposal. Yet, within that multitude of critical approaches, archeology’s more detached and skeptical relation to concrete political antagonisms of the day can also be viewed as a virtue: it offers us ways to see anew, to reevaluate our received commitments and thus to go on differently.
