A radical alteration of thinking is iieedet), and certainly television programs ami ethical ional programs can go a long way towards Chi«: !i" Romani activists, it is essential to be able to guard against and counteract images which promote stereotypes of the Romani population Stepped-up police prevention of racially motivated is necessary, and this will be a difficult task, given the antagonistic history of Roma with the police, and the distrust and misapprehension on both sides The hopes of the Roma lie in their future, in being able to communicate with the gaclje, and the #eculacions on die play of noscalgia in die general construction of "Gypsies". I want to unpack and problcmatizc nostalgia, asking why an elite intellectual class engages in litis Janus-faced practice. How «Joes the marginal nature of Romani life in die Wcsc play into folkloristic nostalgia ? And how is the csscntializcd description of Gypsy "wandering" rclaccd to such nostalgia 7 At this point, I want to be clear that I am not accempcing Co document Che material, historical explanations for actual Romani circumstances. I assume, as a starting point, that centuries of oppression, persecution and slavery were a priori social conditions lhac made certain practices, such as small thievery necessary to survival, in a real, material way. In addition, I assume that such practices were greatly overemphasized by the gadzc, whose imaginalions were less compelled by Gypsies who worked legally. But why, I want to ask, is this * Written for Dr. Ian I". Hancock, Graduate Seminar in Romani Studies. I lie I Iniversity of Texas at Austin. December. 1992 40 so'' For the purposes of this paper. Í focus upon the symbolic value of these practices within a gad/.» discourse oh Gypsies. As such, this paper views such practices among Roma in light of symbolic political resistance among the oppressed -- that is. as lived counter discourses by which the disenfranchised may thwart the homogenizing impulses of hegemony Recent culture theory has looked at practices of domination in its symbolic as well as its very real material terms; indeed, "it is never possible simply to pry apart the cultural from the njatcrial in such processes" (Comaroff and Comaroff 1991: 4) Hegemony is thj» process by which dominant culture "convinces" its subjects that the prevailing order is natural and good. It is articulated in subtle forms, including, perhaps, the well-intended discourse of those within the ruling classes who, whife sincerely believing in their own benevolence towards "the other," are nonetheless constrained and limited by dominant discourse. This is so because, as Raymond Williams puts it, hegemonic practices "effect a saturation of the whole process of living." They extend past overt violence to "a lived system of mennigs and values" beyond which it "is very difficult Tor most members of the society to move" (Williams 1077 : 110). 1 suggest lhal (at least in the-years I consider) The Journal of the Gypsy Isire society, like most oilier cultural f onus, was "sanitated" by the "lived system of meanings and values" which articulates hegemony. As such, it failed to speak out for the Roma during these crucial years. "Gypsy Lore" From 1937 until 1943, no mention is made in The Journal of Gypsy Lore Society of the extermination or systematic persecution of Gypsies. In 1937, for instance, the year after establishment of the International Center for the Fight Against the Gypsy Menace, JGLS included articles on such diverse and neutral topics as Welsh and New York Gypsy life. I lungarian Gypsy fiddlers, linguistic work on Spanish Gypsy dialect and Polish Romani vocabulary. There was a tendency towards the biographical genre - portraits of "colorful Gypsy lives". In addition, throughout this ten year span there seems to be a high premium placed on proving, to other non-Gypsies, that one's authority came from actually living with the knowing Gypsy "friends". Why would professional "Gypsologists", as they often called themselves, produce an essentially apolitical journal at such a crucial moment in the lives of their subjects ? While ignorance of Nazi plans is an immediate answer, many ■ ■'■■■■■■ 41 of these writers were European, even German, living among the increasing chaos of the period and surrounded by the incremental strictures placed upon "Asocials". Yet the tenor ol the Journals remains thoroughly placid, academic and romantic, far into the period when Gypsies began being extenninted en masse. I low can we begin to understand such gentlemanly ignornace among those who were in the best position to know, and to critique ? In part, the JGLS was modeled on specific discursive structures, bolh within folklore and beyond it, which were already firmly established in intellectual forums. The attitudes towards Gypsies had long been marked by tropes so entrenched as to seem "natural" ~ ways of seeing which created a tendency to veer away from the alternatives always posed by political critique. In the following passages, I want to explore ways in which the Journal's overall analytic structures inhibit the development of academic expressions of outrage or activism. These structures go well beyond Germany and even F.urope; they are the bedrock of the overall Gypsy-folklore dialogue. I will therefore explore duscussion of Gypsy social conditions in both F.urope and North America, as they appear in the JGLS. First of all, despite their ignornace of Nazi persecution, writers in the Journal arc clearly aware of the generally difficult social conditions of their subjects. These writers consider themselves champions and connoisseurs of (iypsy culture, and often call themselves "friends". Many do assert the reality of Gypsy lives, and some do point out the crippling effects of Gadžc racism. In a detailed ethnographic exploration of Albanian Gypsies in 1938, for instance, Margaret Hasluck argues that "Uicirown traditions and the pride and prejudice of the Gadžc have left no other occupations [other than unpleasant, manual laborl open to the Gypsies of Albania" (JGLS 1938 : vol. XVII, 30). Hut not until the war is over do a very few writers mention the systematic persecution or final fate of the Gypsies. As a rule, the Journal in tliesc ten years leaves little space for politically acute analysis because the difficult relationship between the Roma and slate officials around the world is "folklorizcd" - that is, represented as a permanent feature of Gypsy Culture, rather than as a complex dialectic between the powerful and powerless. For instance, an article entitled "A Gypsy Sunday in New York", by George B. Oujevolk, regards Sunday as a culturally salient day for Gypsies because: Sunday is the one day of the week that the Ciypsy really enjoys more than any other day. I doubt thai there is any Gypsy who clearly 42 understands the full meaning of the Sabbath. However, probably because of the fact that he is least annoy«! by the officers of the law on that day. or probably because on that praticnlar day the labouring classes are not at work and therefore come to the (iypsy women to have their fortunes told, the (iypsy has realized that Sunday is a day for holidays and festivals..." (JGLS 1937 : vol. XVI, 6). Besides the more overt paternalism in the wording of üiis passage ("I doubt thai any (iypsy understands the full meaning of the Sabbath', which suggests that Gypsies are cither heathens or children), more covertly damaging is the author's matter-of-fact acceptance of tensions between Gypsies and police. The assertion that Gypsies enjoy Sunday because on that day they arc "least annoyed by the officers of the law" in effect naturalizes the "annoyance" that regularly occurs. The author treats the harassment as an essentializing feature of Gypsy culture, not as a politically significant relationship with historical and economic vectors. Similarly well intentioned is "Lazzy Smith in Egglestone'š Note-Book", which describes the portrait of an elderly Welsh "Romano Rai" whose deep set grey eyes had that rather wild look not uncommonly to be found in the Gypsies of mixed stock, and this peculiarity did not belie his character, for he was queer' and at times unbalanced. At our first meeting his hand-shake was made with a flourish as through to seal a bargain, and his right hand... was permanently contracted by reason of damaged sinews; this, he explained, had been caused by his own refusual to allow an unbroken colt to beat him. Since then I have shamefully wondered if the injury might not have been an example of Gypsy self-mutilation to avoid military service and evade the press-gang... during differences Iwiih his daughter Alice] Lazzy would jump wildly from one grievance to another, then end by giving vent to that blind racial hatred of the gajo from which probably no Gypsy is entirely free" (JGLS 1937 : vol. XVI. 2). There is clearly much that merits discussion here - from the pure speculation of Smith's draft evasion to the fear of miscegenation, expressed in Myers' assumption that intermarriage between Gypsies and non-Gypsies produces "queer" offspring. However, of importance to our discussion is the portrayal of Smith's "blind racial hatred of the gajo." Myers neutralizes Romani expressions of political anger by first, stressing Smith's "unbalanced" personality -suggesting that he is "naturally" angry - and second, by treating "racial hatred" as an essential feature of "Gypsiness" rather than as a serious response to specific social conditions, one which would therefore require real attention. Much like the "flashing eyes" which also form a recurring image in JGLS prose, Romani anger is presented as a static cultural trait, not as a dynamic reaction to 43 specific injustices. There is no room for cither Romani or non-Romani anger or critique. While the articles above discussed (iypsy life in relatively benevolent countries, Uie 1938 and 1939 Journals also includes articles on "Gypsy Life in central (iermany." The first reveals a sincere sympathy with the (iypsies. 1 low-ever, although the author, Manns Wclzel,-discusses the economic hardships of "the Sinti," his text offers no hint in the article of any systematic persecution -- even though he was writing during the year when the Final Solution went into effect. Here is Welzel's overall portrayal of Gypsies as "happy" people: in spite of their burdens... f they J are gay creatures who display all the splendid qualities of a people living in a slate of nature... no cares make them doubt the value of simplicity in their lives - if they can smoke their clay pipes. They ask for nothing else in the world" (JGLS 1938 : vol. XVII, 3J). While still romantic and essentializing, Welzel's portrayal of Gypsies as "affectionate" and "normal" does constitute a direct couniervoicc to the prevailing rhetoric of Nazi Germany. Even when Welzel asserts that the Gypsies are like "children", he is voicing opposition to the great misunderstanding [which) renders the life of the Gypsies very difficult: viz, the imputation that they are an inferior class of human beings (ibid.). I Ic goes on to say: The Gypsy is the very reverse of a criminal or a human wild beast... he is a big child... It is also an erroneous idea that the Gypsy feels himself attracted by the malefactors of the towns, or that he mixes with them. On the contrary, he is the first to avoid a bad Galschu, for he recognizes by instinct the character of a person. It would be, therefore, much to be regretted if... the Sinti... were made to settle in the large towns, where at best tbey would be cheated or corrupted by the lower classess... (ibid.). However, despite his good intentions, Harms Welzel is unable to see the reality of the Gypsy's situation, and his slab at opposition to the dominant rhetoric is severely weakened. Unable to see the fatal events unfolding before his eyes, he ends with on this chillingly ironic note of optimism : The existence of such conditions [ie, the movement of Gypsies to citiesl is luckily being brought to an end by the present German Government. Throughout the war years, JGLS never acknowledges the situation i 44 Europe; in tenor it remained a repository of neutral gentility, as it somehow untouched by the chaos of world events. From 1941-1943, the only hints that the world was in upltcaval were : firstly, \\k decreasing bulk of the Journal; and secondly, its contents were suddently dominated by studies of British, rather than continental, Roma. During these years, the only discussion of continental European Roma arc non-clhnogrnphic collections of vocabulary and folk-talcs from Bosnia and Serbia. In 1944, however, there are some subtle changes in the Journal. In previous issues, the perspective of Romani was largely filtered through collected tales and letters; these were presented as collected folklore items which were categorically separate from the analysis that surrounded them. While the overall tenor of articles remained unchanged, the 1944 JGLS includes articles written by -- not just "collected" from - Roma, including 17 year old Antonín Daniel, a "Gypsy youth" from South Moravia. The editor, Gypsologist Stuart Fi. Mann, calls him a "Collaborator", not just an informant, who was helping in an unfinished translation project. Although published in the 1944 JGLS, Daniel's piece was written in 1933; it is unclear what became of the youth. His piece, a vivid portrait of his own life in a Moravian Romani village, asks. Why (to the gentiles regard (the Roma| so evilly 7 Are they not people like themselves ? We could ask ourselves many and many a question as to why they are so much behind the gentiles. Rather let us tum back two hundred years and see what has happened to them since then. We know they came from Hither India... (JGLS 1944 : vol. XXIII, 73). Although Daniel does not know much more about the history of the Roma, his article represents one of the rare impulses to contcxlualizc and historici«; Romani social conditions. And in following years, more analyses by Roma arc represented in (he pages of the Journal; for instance, Mateo Maximoff presented articles through 1947, and - although he himself did not write Uie article - the ideas of Steve Kaslov are faithfully relayed (1945 vol. xxrv). In addition, in direct acknowledgement of the Romani Holocaust, 1947s Journal included an article by Jan Molitor on "The Fate of a German Gypsy". Molitor records his conversation with an old Rom : 'Have you intercourse with many Gypsies ?' 'No, that was so once. Rut mostof the Gypsies I knew are dead : gassed, burnt, lost" (JGLS 1947 vol. XXVI, 49).' In fact, iL seems to be the genocidal losses which, ironically enough. 45 create the space for new voices and interpretations in die Journal. After me Holocaust, the Gypsies are remembered as an emblem of a wholeness, representing a vanished Europe from a more innocent time. As such, the Gypsy voice is suddenly valued in a new way; it becomes the nostalgic heart of a lost world : As I si( down at my desk I am overwhelmed by nostalgia lor llu-llungary I knew. I remember, as in a dream, the bright lights along the I )anube, the wide expanses of the puszta. the charm of little villages... and the ever-present, ever-insistent music of the Gypsy violins. We do not know how much of the beauty of old Hungary remains..." (JGLS 1947: Vol XXVI, 42). Nostalgia But Gadže nostalgia regarding the Roma did not arise with the end of the war. Nostalgia over the disappearance of Gypsies, however deeply fclL was related to older forms of nostalgia which had long predated it. Nostalgia is a key trope in the JGLS entries both before and after the war. In the years before 1944, this nostalgia is largely articulted as a general romantic construction of the wandering, carefree "tribe" free of civilization's constrains. Gypsies were seen as part of "the past" both historically (cf. Hancock 1987) and biologically. That is, when Welzel termed the Gypsy "a big child", he drew upon the common romantic metaphor which conflated "childhood" with "the primitive" as lost stages in the life of "mature" and "civilized" man. Similarly, in a 1942 article on "the art of communication among the Gypsies," F. 11. Arnold asserted that it... involves more than the actual matter of communication: it raises the question as to what powers man has lost in his progress towards civilization, and how far the Gypsies may be regarded as possessing the powers once common to all man" (1942 : XX I, p. 18). Thus the Gypsy is not entirely foreign; he is constructed as the vestigial remnant of Ute civilized self, an embryonic form still buried within the post-lapsarian "adult" culture. In regarding the Gypsy as their own "inntjr child" these folklorists were continuing a romantic literary tradition whose roots extend into the 18th century. For example, emblems of pastoral nostalgia for life before llie industrial revolution, when man was un-sclf conscious and lived in harmony with "nature", abounded in works of Romantic influentials like Wordsworth, who, while 46 idealizing the language of "Ihc common man", implicitly asserted that (En-glish) rustic speech was "incomplete" until il was framed, published or oUter-wise articulated (ie, appropriated) by a literate elite. And the oral articulations of (iypsies were similarly regarded. In the 1937 article on "Sundays" among New York (Iypsies. for example, the writer includes the texts of several songs. Although the songs express a range of feelings, not just the "joyful" mood he ascribes to all Gypsies on all Sundays, the author docs not let the complex, perhaps sorrowful lyrics' cramp his analysis, lie makes no mention of the lyrical mood, but ends wiüi the following exchange between a Gypsy and himself: "Pete, 1 sad... 1 must have the worlds to those two songs'... 'Very well,' he agreed... So, feeling content that at last 1 would be able to record some complete Romani Songs, I continued enjoying the party with the rest of the Gypsies" (1937:8). The complex tenor of Romani life, artistically expressed in the lyrics he is permitted lo record, are obscured by both the author's a priori notion of "joyful" Gypsiness - and by his own delight in managing to affix the fleeting words. A similar, but more disturbing appropriation appears in John Myers' article on Lazzy Smith : Among {Smith's] many obsessions was the belief that people were exploiting his knowledge and experience in order to make money. Thus, when Scott Macfie sent him a copy of his "own book". Incidents in a Gypsy Life...he... went to a Newport lawyer to 'have the law agen us both'. The solicitor kindly informed me of the facts and afterwards procrastinated so successfully that in time the fires of Lazzy's wrath died down and I was again admittd to his friendship..." (JGLS 1937 : vol. XVI p. 5). Here, Smith's anger at being "exploited" by the appropriation of his life's experiences by Myers and Macfie is regarded as completely unproblematic -- a childish Gypsy whim. Like Oujevolk in the preceding New York fragment, who 'These are the lyrics to one of the songs : The guitars play/All night I did not slcep./Oh what a great pain I have/Oh what a great pain I have/In my head, in my head !/Where am I to go! Along the high road ? Oh that I might go/To my old mother !/May I perish, may I die !/For in God's name I have nowhere to go. It is difficult to interpret the mood without more context: one could possibly read this as either a sardonic day-aftcr-drinking song, or else an expression of longing. The point is that the author makes no attempt to understand the song's meaning to his Romani hosts; he (imply decides it is carefree, like all Gypsy Sunday things. 47 overtly glorifies in possessing the fleeting Gypsy simps. Myers considers the details of Smith's life' to be a free collector's item, fodder for his own academic and material success. Most poignant in this episode is Smith's attempt to work, within legal channels to secure some revenue or credit from the hook. Not surprisingly, the white solicitor is not interested in the rights of his Gypsy client; he betrays his legal trust by informing Myers "ol the facts", then "procrastinates" until Smith drops the case. Smith's whimsical nature is proved, here, by his attempt at penetrating the exclusive club of legal discourse. Myers takes no responsibility for Smith's anger; il is in all sincerity that he regards himself "a friend". Nostalgia, then, which placed the Roma outside of lime and progress, also pushed them to the margins of social life, past Ihc "natural" rights of citizens. Incorporating the other The Gypsy, then, was seen both as the "heart" of Europe and radically "other" to it. Just as Gypsy words were appropriated and incorporated into the Journal and other academic forums, the construction of "the Gypsy" was incorporated into the identity of the European. As Edward Said has written, "European culture gained in strength and identity by setting itself against the Orient as a sort of... underground self" (Said 1979; quoted in Stallybrass and While 1985.) In an ironically unintentional mirror of the Romani distinction between pure "top" and impure "bottom" regarding the body, an elite European "top" regarded its "underground self" with both desire and fear: "The."'.op* attempts to reject and eliminate 'lire bottom' for reasons of prestige and status, only lo discover that it is in some way frequently dependent upon that low other... the top includes the low symbolically, as a primary eroticized constilutent of its own fantasy life" (Stallybrass and White 1985: i). As "low other", the Gypsy was lo do such menial work as sewer maintenance and street sweeping — activities thought lo belong to the bodily and social realm of "the low". The Gypsy is also the forbidden, underground sexual aspect sublimated by the elite. Here is a description of "A True Gypsy" apparently dancing Flamenco, although the writer describing her clearly has oilier things in mind : She pauses. Her back aschtts. Her torso expand» upward out of her hips... her face welted with frowns, her hips eddying. Suddenly she cries out (JGLS 1945 : Vol. XX11I. 69). But Gad/.c desires extends beyond the sexual realm. One writer, who 94 08 48 presents himsclť as "the adopted son of a Gypsy Chief, tells oľ his almost primal longing to run oil with the Gypsies, stoked by his innate feelings of "homesickness" lor a land he has never visited and his preoccupation with "an imaginary world" : 1 was perhaps six years old when for the first lime I heard somebody speak about the gitanos .. I perceived oriental princesses draped in riches and colour 1 hey were covered with jewels precious and rare. I closed my eyes, my heart beating..." (Kil.S 1945 : vol. XXIV p. 9). Such longing articulate what Stallyhrass and White call "a psychological dependence upon precisely those others which arc being rigorously opposed and excluded at the social level. The low other is despised and denied al l!ie level of political organization and social being whilst it is instmmcntally constitutive of the shared imaginary repertoires of the dominant culture" (Stallyhrass and White l')X5 : 5-6). From this paradoxial position, central to the elite imagination yet marginal to its social and political life, oppressed groups acquire the irrational status of taboo objects. Mary I )ouglas has writen that "the idea of society is a powerful image... it has external boundaries, margins... There is energy in the margins and unstructured areas" (1967 : 114) The "margins" of culture are seen as irrationally dangerous, charged with "energy" that cannot l>e channelled into the structured center. And the Roma, who occupied Ihc margins of society, were socially dangerous in part because of their marginality. This marginality was perpetuated by the dominant imagination; a center cannot exist without a margin to frame it. At Ihc same lime. I believe, Gypsies were seen as doubly dangerous because gadže perceived them as proud to occupy their marginal realm. The idea lhal Ihc margins of society could sustain contented life threatened social assumptions which for the most part remain unquestioned. Tactics In other words, Romani cultural practices seemed to threaten the what llourdieu has called the "doxa" of European social structure : that is, those laken-ibr-giaiiicu structures xr. e structures, while dominated by hegemonic interests, are never complclcly stable; they are always at risk of deconstruction from oppressed peoples, who might, at any moment, construct alternate social forms. 49 "The relaily of any hegemony", as Raymond Williams has written." is that while by definition it is always dominánt, il is never either total or exclusive ... oppositional culture exists as significant elements in the society" (1977 : 113). In oilier words, the lived practices from what Douglas calls society's "margins", and what Stallyhrass and White call its "bottom", appear "unconvinced" by the ruling discourse. Even when they arc silent, then, the margins "laik back" to the central elite through practices.1 One way that the Roma threatened dominant structures was through travelling. I suggest this because the accepted, nonihrcatcning European image of the "low other" is traditionally the peasant — the economically oppressed, equally folklorizcd emblem of society's bottom half. The key romantic iamgc of peasantry is sedentary life; the peasant remains in one place, tilling the soil in an image of pastoral tranquility. But the Gypsy (like the Jew) "wandered"' At this point, I want to be clear that there were historical reasons for Romani movement, including the history of being driven away, and of disen-franchiscment from land on which they were forced to reside. Nor do I mean to suggest that Roma today are in fact normally mobile - or that, even al the time of JGLS, all of them were. Rather, I am interested, here, in the symbolic values that Gypsy movement came to embody. Why for instance, was "nomadism" so symbolically charged for sedentary Europeans ? Why was it recognized as a symbol of rebellion by non-Gypsies, who used it (often foolishly, from the Romani perspective) to resist their own culture on a fundamental level ? The refusal of the oppressed to "stay put" has often confounded the elite imagination; for example. Native Americans, who similarly defined the image of ihe European peasant "other", were placed on reservations and made to till infertile land, partially in order to fulfill that peasant image (Kehoe 1977:15). And like Native Americans4, the Gypsy's movement through space created a felt rupture that filled in with a rush of loss and desire for the Gadže who were 'Although I cannot go into a detailed analysis here, practices of small theft and of mysticism, including fortune-telling, may be considered oppositional tactics. Both construct alternative structures which threaten the dominant order. In the case of theft, hierarchies of power are symbolically overturned; in the case of fortune-telling, the dominant, rational epistemology is questioned by the "believer" or "customer". 'Some articles did acknowledge "sedentary Gypsies", but for the most part, caravans, wagons and travel dominated the folkloristi imagination. 'The similarities in constructions of the two group« are striking. Both were said to kidnap children as part of their "wandering ways", for example. I II III wedded to one place : I low gre.il was my sorrow when I discovered that (he (gypsy camp) was empty, the Roms had departed as mysteriously as they hail come a few days before. A little heap of ashes... was the only thing to remind meof them... a homesick nightingale was singing his complaint of infinite sadness (Kil.S 1945 : XXIV p. 10). Romani "nomadism" is obsessively discussed by Gad/.e analysts. One writer, who suggested that Gypsies should be studied not as a culture but as "a unit in the nomadic world", saw "nomadism" as "an intangible quality; the inward and spiritual essence of being a nomad... no nomad can be judged by the normal standards of society because their mental outlook is inverse, with no sense of values" (JGLS 1945 XXIV, 47-53). Because of their travelling, as well as what he called "cosmic forces", he saw tlie Gypsy "becoming more Gypsyish than ever. He has gone back spiritually to the outlook of his grandfather, and possibly lo... the fantastic quality of tlie Gypsies of a century ago" (JGLS 1944 vol. XXIII. 46). Nomadism was "dangerous" because "the nomad does not, and cannot, envisage any man superior to himself, no matter what his achievement or position" (53). In other words, the danger of wandering is the seeming threat to notions of stability and hierarchy. This is not to say that Roma do not have their own hierarchies and orders. Rather, their practices call into question the univocality of dominant structures. The wanderer "messes up" the dominant categories of high and low; unlike the sedentary peasant, he keeps slipping out of place. In an attempt to "anchor" nomadism, for instance, tlie above scholar constructed an elaborately codified analysis of dozens of nomadic "types", from "vagabond" to "drone". Furthermore, "place" is a powerful image in tlie discourse of domination. It is through the ownership of places - from land to factories - that dominance is, after all, established. My final point is that the Roma seemed lo present an alternative practice to "owning" land. They passed through without possessing it. Dominated peoples do not simply succumb to the structures which oppress them, but instead can employ what de Certcau calls "calculated actions determined by tlie absence of a proper locus" (1984: 36). In other words, their actions of symbolic resistance always occur "in a terrain imposed... and organized by the law of a foreign power" (De Certcau 1984 : 37). Like factory workers, who appropriate the owners' tools lo construct their own furniture, the 51 powerless "poach" on the other;' places, subverting the symbolic structures which seek to contain them. Their tactics "denaturalize" the dominant order, exposing it as a construction. In the case oľUic Roma, it seems, the elite imagination "worked overtime", as it were, exhaustively weaving and re-weaving the discourse that would naturalize and re-naturalize the structures of hegemony. Ihis essay is not meant to lambast the Journal of the Gypsy Lore Society. The Journal contains many detailed and important studies oľ culture and language. In addition, the Journal was a far more benevolent voice than the prevailing rhetoric of the time. However, the fact remains that scholars of Romani culture did not. or could not, vigorously protest the fate oľ those they studied and befriended. They did not engage in political critique which might have led to action. In tliis essay, I have tried to understand why their well-intended discourse never radically broke with or interrupted the dominant dialogue of the lime. Ilibliojrraphy Hourdieu, Pierre 1972. Outline of a Theory of Practie. Cambridge : Cambridge U. Press. De Certeau, Michel. 1981, The Practice ofl-vcryday Life. Berkeley : University of California Press. Douglas, Mary, 1967, Purity and Danger. London :Ark Paperbacks. Hancock. Ian 1987, The Pariah Syndrome, Ann Arbor : Kamma Publishers. Journal of the Oypsy Lore Society. All issues from XVI January-April 1937 through XXVI, July-October. 1947. Stallybrass, Peter and Allon White. 1986, The Politics and Poetics of Transgression. Ithaca : Cornell University Press.