<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?><xml><records><record><source-app name="Biblio" version="7.x">Drupal-Biblio</source-app><ref-type>17</ref-type><contributors></contributors><titles><title><style face="normal" font="default" size="100%">Archaeopolitics: The second lives of statues.</style></title><secondary-title><style face="normal" font="default" size="100%">CAS Sofia Working Papers</style></secondary-title></titles><dates><year><style  face="normal" font="default" size="100%">2023</style></year></dates><urls><web-urls><url><style face="normal" font="default" size="100%">https://www.ceeol.com/search/article-detail?id=1121876</style></url></web-urls></urls><volume><style face="normal" font="default" size="100%">14</style></volume><pages><style face="normal" font="default" size="100%">72-102</style></pages><language><style face="normal" font="default" size="100%">eng</style></language><abstract><style face="normal" font="default" size="100%">As a discipline deeply rooted in the turbulent nation-building days of the “long 19&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt; c.”, archaeology is closely entangled with political discourse. Modernity, however, has also effected a breed of politics carried out through the use of archaeology, and the past’s grip on the ways we perceive our present. This paper is not a discussion of the political aspects of archaeological praxis in contemporary societies but an exploration of politics carried out through an archaeological way of thinking and acting. I call this breed of archaeologically informed politics over life “Archaeopolitics”. My main case study come from present-day Greece, and South-Eastern Europe at large, though – as my first example is bound to show – what I am describing here may be observed in many other regions of the world and in a timeframe much wider than the later 20&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt; – early 21&lt;sup&gt;st&lt;/sup&gt; c.</style></abstract></record></records></xml>