
































Bridges through Conservation Development 

Review by Jeremy Trombley

Beyond the Lens of Conservation: Malagasy and Swiss Imaginations of One Another 

by Eva Keller

Berghahn Books, 2015

Eva Keller's  Beyond the  Lens  of  Conservation is  an  interesting  study of  the  relationship  between

Malagasy  and  Swiss  people  by  way  of  their  mutual  connection  to  Masoala  National  Park  in

Madagascar. There has been a lot of ethnographic research done on the unequal relationship between

North and South, particularly as it relates to conservation, but this book takes a somewhat different

approach. By looking at the way that people from both Switzerland and Madagascar understand one

another by way of this national park and its sister exhibit  at the Zurich Zoo, the author is able to

examine the way that conservation projects mediate peoples’ perceptions of one another over great

distances.

In the Zurich Zoo, there is  a  large exhibit  featuring lemurs,  tortoises,  and other animals native to

Madagascar’s Masoala National Park. The exhibit also features references to the indigenous peoples

who live in or near the park,  and the scientific expeditions to learn about the park and its unique

wildlife. This exhibit provides many Swiss with their most direct experience of Madagascar, and it’s

through it and other cultural references that Keller examines the Swiss perspective on the people and

place of Madagascar. Keller begins her book with a thorough “virtual tour” of the exhibit – allowing us

to see it from her perspective as she wanders among the tourists and trees where elusive lemurs and

other animals reside. The image that we get from this exhibit is of a familiar story. Madagascar, aside

from a brief display at the beginning, a few easily missed references in the exhibit itself, and at the end,

is depicted as relatively devoid of human occupation. Instead of a nation rich with both human and



natural diversity, Madagascar comes across as a vast natural wilderness untouched by human influence

– that is, until the health of the forest comes into question. The final portion of the exhibit – also easily

bypassed – provides a detailed depiction of the Masoala locals as villains satisfying their selfish desire

for profit by destroying the forest upon which they and the health of the planet depend.

According to Keller, these views are reinforced by two major popular cultural narratives – the story of

the globe-trotting parrot Globi and his adventures in Madagascar, and the Dreamworks Animation film

Madagascar. In both stories, the island nation is portrayed as either devoid of human presence or the

people are depicted as ignorant and selfish destroyers of the natural world. This perspective justifies

Swiss intervention in Madagascar to save the Masoala forest from the locals who would, in this view,

destroy it.

All of this leads Keller to what she refers to as the “coconut schema.” Instead of recognizing the unique

culture and history of Madagascar, the Swiss people she spoke with – including several classes of

students – fit them into a universal “native” schema that could be applied to any indigenous people. In

this framework, the Malagasy are impoverished, backward, and primitive, and must be taught how to

live sustainably with the forest. The project of protecting Masoala, then, becomes a moral project of

preserving a threatened landscape, rather than a meaningful engagement with the people of Madagascar

themselves.

The second part of the book focuses on life in and around Masoala for the Malagasy. It begins with a

history of the park and how it was created, followed by an analysis of the effects that the creation of the

park had on people who live in the area. Primarily, the park affects land use by preventing access to

certain regions and forcing people to request permits to conduct routine activities. This put a severe

burden on the people there, and has resulted in a great deal of tension between the local population and

the agency that oversees the park. Keller demonstrates these tensions through an examination of the

“banana ethos” and the “moon ethos” – drawing from a Malagasy myth. In the banana ethos, which the

Malagasy hold, the value of life is in building a strong connection to the land a growing community of

kinship. The moon ethos, on the other hand, is held by conservationists who see the growing population

not as a benefit to the expansion of kin, but as overpopulation and potentially increasing the destruction

of  the  forest.  Keller  describes  this  interaction of  contradictory ways of  viewing life  as  generating

friction (drawing on Anna Tsing’s notion of the term as the uneven and awkward aspects of interaction

across difference) between the two groups.



From the perspective of the Malagasy, the Masoala park represents an intrusion of the state and of

foreigners into their everyday lives. It has resulted in the loss of cultivable land, prevents the expansion

of kin groups by limiting the land available for future generations,  and interferes with their  burial

practices by preventing them from accessing the burial sites of their ancestors. Keller illustrates these

effects with a number of anecdotes such as the story of a burial site on an island called, “The Island of

The Wanderer.” After the island was listed as part of the “hard core” of the park, and foreign tourists

were seen kayaking to  it,  the Malagasy in  the area felt  forced to  move the burial  to  protect  their

ancestors. This left them feeling defeated, and anxious about the future.

Ultimately, Keller argues, the park has interrupted a long process among the Malagasy of trying to

overcome the legacy of colonialism and slavery on the island. Many of the Malagasy in the park region

are  descendants  of  former  slaves.  Their  humanity  –  in  the  form of  access  to  land  for  their  own

descendants, and to connect with their ancestors – has been stripped away. The Masoala peninsula

provided these people with the opportunity to recover what had been lost. The creation of the park, and

the resulting restrictions on accessing the land have halted this recovery process.

Returning to her analysis of Swiss perceptions of Madagascar, Keller suggests that, instead of bringing

the people of  the two nations together,  the park has driven them further  apart  by creating further

tensions  and  antagonisms.  Although  both  groups  perceive  one  another  through  conflated

generalizations – the Swiss through the coconut schema, and the Malagasy through the image of the

vazaha or  foreigner  –  Keller  argues  that  there  is  a  significant  difference  between  these  two

generalizations. The first is based on a generic type, lacking any historical or political dimension – a

“native” from any continent could just as easily stand in for any other “native.” The second, on the

other hand, is based on the direct historical and political relationship that the Malagasy have had with

Europeans  and  other  foreigners  in  both  the  past  and  the  present.  She  describes  these  different

perspectives as a “broken bridge,” but offers no suggestions for how to fix it.

Here it might have been useful to raise the other aspect of Anna Tsing’s concept of friction. What’s

most interesting about Tsing’s work is not that friction prevents interaction across difference – though

in some cases it no doubt does – but that friction is the condition of possibility for relationships to be

formed. Friction, for Tsing, is productive. It might, in light of Keller’s analysis, be worth imagining the

productive possibilities that the friction between the Swiss who visit the Zurich Zoo exhibit and the

Malagasy who live near Masoala park might produce.



The only other substantive critique I have is that the cultural models approach is not well developed in

the text. There is little explanation of how the models are identified and validated. People unfamiliar

with Holland and Quinn’s work or the method of cultural models more generally might not grasp the

process based on the limited methodological description provided. Although supported by ethnographic

examples  (e.g.  quotes,  and  descriptions  provided  by  the  author),  this  lack  of  methodological

explanation makes the cultural models aspect of the research seem comparatively thin. Additionally, I

would advise a general caution with all approaches based on schema theory. Because the methodology

selects for schemas that are the most generally applicable within a community, there is often little room

for nuance and variation. It is possible that many Swiss, including the zoo staff, are very reflexive

about the Masoala exhibit, but this may not come out in interviews, and could get overshadowed by the

dominant discourse of the zoo and the exhibit. That is a general critique of schema theory, though, and

not an issue with Keller’s work specifically.

Overall, I found the book to be very engaging and enlightening. The unique approach of studying the

relationships between two regions by way of the forest and its sister zoo exhibit provided a rich account

of how the people of these two regions view one another and the kinds of relationships that emerge

from the interaction. It is a worthwhile addition to the literature on inequality and conservation, and

provides many interesting and engaging ideas that can be built upon in further research.

Jeremy Trombley is a PhD Candidate in anthropology the the University of Maryland. His research

revolves around the construction of computational models for environmental management within the

Chesapeake Bay Watershed. He writes about social, political, and philosophical issues on his blog

Struggle Forever!

© 2016 Jeremy Trombley


