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Chagnon, a member of Neel's 1968 expedition, said last week he had yet to see galleys either of the book or of an excerpt scheduled to be published next week in the New Yorker magazine. The New Yorker did offer to interview him, but he declined. In a widely circulated e-mail, he charged that an American Anthropological Association open forum next month would be "a feeding frenzy in which I am the bait." In a statement posted on a website of the University of California at Santa Barbara, where he remains professor emeritus, he accuses Tierney, Turner and Sponsel of engaging in a "long vendetta against me." The allegations, he told TIME, are "grotesque... Nobody died of measles in the villages we vaccinated." As for the staged fights and phony film sets, Chagnon said the charges are "totally incorrect."
Late last week the defense of Neel and Chagnon gained momentum when University of Pennsylvania science historian Susan Lindee reviewed Neel's papers from the expedition and found nothing improper about the scientist's procedures. In an e-mail to colleagues, Lindee acknowledged that "if we wish to adopt an X-Files theory of history, we could propose that he planted these records, including the much scribbled on and often almost illegible field notes, in order to mislead future historians." But, she notes, papers from Venezuelan authorities and the U.S. Centers for Disease Control specifically refute some of Tierney's charges, including his assertion that Neel did not have official permission to vaccinate. Irving Devore, former chairman of the anthropology department at Harvard, also rallied to Chagnon's side, calling Tierney's book "a scurrilous tissue of lies."
In addition to Chagnon and Neel, another scientific heavyweight--French anthropologist Jacques Lizot, who lived among the Yanomami for 25 years--is targeted by Tierney. He describes Lizot as keeping a virtual harem of Yanomami boys and exchanging gifts for sexual favors.
Reached in Paris, Lizot called the charges "disgusting." He added, "I am a homosexual, but my house is not a brothel. I gave gifts because it is part of the Yanomami culture. I was single. Is it forbidden to have sexual relations with consenting adults? People say 'boy,' and they mean anywhere from postpubescent to 25 years old."
The controversy is not likely to abate soon, perhaps not until the scientific community officially investigates the issues raised in Tierney's book. Barbara Johnston, human-rights chair of the American Anthropological Association, finds Tierney's "90 interviews, Freedom of Information Act documents, audiotapes from film outtakes" significant. But she reaches no conclusion. "There is extensive documentation but a lot of room for argument," she says. "If even 10% of these allegations are valid, we must take a good look."
Scientists fear the Yanomami controversy could tarnish the reputation of anthropological research at a time when indigenous peoples are asserting their rights to restrict foreign scholars. But whatever the sins of past decades, the real issue is not the squabbles of academics. It is how to help save the Amazon's largest tribe from modern diseases and threats to their land. "The Yanomami have been in danger of extinction on a lot of fronts--from investigators, missionaries, government officials, miners," says Venezuelan anthropologist Nelly Arvelo. "Everyone must bear some responsibility."