Well, it's hard to believe, but my internship at the American Museum of Natural History is drawing to a close! In a weird, dysfunctional way, I'm almost going to miss my daily commute into and out of the city from NJ (a fun-filled 2 hours, doorstep to doorstep). But I'm certainly grateful to the Dickinson Career Center's internship grant for covering that transportation! My alternative (paddling across the Hudson River) would not have been well suited to all of the papers and books I carried around with me. And if I never got to the museum, well, how in the world would I have begun to investigate the mystery of the chiefdoms in the prehistoric Upper Xingu?
In the last post, I mentioned that I finally--finally!--compiled a Chiefdom Chart. That's such an exciting step towards organizing the paper that Dr. Carneiro and I will be writing! And before I move on with this post, I just want to update you: We've come up with a working title: "Did chiefdoms once exist in the Upper Xingu?" Nice, right? Dr. Carneiro concocted it, and I really like how it kind of perpetuates that detective/mystery approach. Plus, on Wednesday I wrote up an abstract for the paper submission process! Dr. Carneiro is looking over it as we speak, and as soon as we make the (what I'm sure will be necessary) modifications, we'll submit it (I'll put a link to it on here!) and be that much closer to possibly presenting the paper! We'll find out in December, so I'll keep you posted.
Anyway, back to the excitement of chiefdom charts. Of course, I'm incredibly excited about the one I've compiled, and I think that, after a few tweaks, it's on its way to being the greatest thing since sliced bread. However, it would be remiss to not point out that such an initiative has been taken before. Indeed, in 1973, Colin Renfrew created a similar chart listing about 20 features that could be considered characteristic of a chiefdom. Even though I came across this after I had made the initial categories of my own chart, there were several areas of overlap, as I have highlighted in this excerpt from Renfrew's 1975 article "Beyond a Subsistence Economy: The Evolution of Social Organization in Prehistoric Europe" (page 73):
"The accompanying features frequently seen in chiefdoms may be set out as follows:
1. A ranked society
2. The redistribution of produce organized by the chief
3. Greater population density
4. Increase in the total number in the society
5. Increase in the size of individual residence groups
6. Greater productivity
7. More clearly defined territorial boundaries or borders
8. A more integrated society with a greater number of socio-centric statuses
9. Centers which coordinate social and religious as well as economic activity
10. Frequent ceremonies and rituals serving wide social purposes
11. Rise of priesthood
12. Relation to a total environment (and hence redistribution)--i.e., to some ecological diversity
13. Specialization, not only regional or ecological but also through the pooling of individual skills in large cooperative endeavors
14. Organization and deployment of public labor, sometimes for agricultural work (e.g. irrigation) and/or for building temples, temple mounds, or pyramids
15. Improvement in craft specialization
16. Potential for territorial expansion--associated with the "rise and fall" of chiefdoms
17. Reduction of internal strife
18. Pervasive inequality of persons or groups in the society associated with permanent leadership, effective in fields other than the economic
19. Distinctive dress or ornament for those of high status
20. No true government to back up decisions by legalized force
As you can see, there are multiple instances in which Renfrew and my chart cite similar characteristics. However, there are several ways in which our lists diverge significantly. For instance, of the five features that I had reported as being particularly indicative of a chiefdom, only one of them--"Substantial populations"--appears on Renfrew's chart (number 4). Number 3 on Renfrew's list, "Greater population density," is a logical effect of the important "Resource Concentration" factor that is on my list, but Renfrew refrains from making any conjectures as to the cause of this increase. Indeed, nowhere in Renfrew's list does he mention the importance of establishing that there are multiple villages with connections among them to promote communication--one of the surest indications of a chiefdom! This lack prompts a reflection of the usefulness of such charts. Lists like Renfrew's seem to be particularly involved and detail-oriented, and as such do not offer much insight into the more general investigation of the presence of chiefdoms. This narrowness thus disinclines its application to a variety of regions. It becomes even clearer, then, that organizing my chart according to the strength of the degree to which each feature suggests a chiefdom will be especially effective in enabling this chart to become a universal tool.
And as much as some social scientists may be inclined to focus only on the lifeways of one culture instead of considering them in a comparative light, Renfrew's account in particular demonstrates the importance of the latter: On page 75, he discusses the chiefdoms of southern Britain c. 3000 b.c. as having constructed "large circular ditch-and-bank enclosures, known as 'henges.'" We saw ditches in the Upper Xingu--a completely different continent, over 3000 years later! Really, the parallels are astounding!
Embarking on a research project like this one has been different from any paper that I've written. It really felt like I was working as a detective--I had a case and some (archaeological) evidence, and there were multiple theories that I had to evaluate. Sometimes these theories led me to new questions regarding my initial hypotheses; at other times such theories made me even more sure of my initial thoughts, whether because I outright disagreed with them or because they supported my own observations. Take the case of Renfrew's article, for instance. I do not fully agree with the details he has included in his list of chiefdom features. However, I greatly appreciate the fact that he has championed not only the cause of the creation of one, but the broader cause of defining "chiefdom" itself well. Frequently I have come across social scientists who are adamantly opposed to such charts and definitions, asserting that they will serve to trivialize a culture by stripping it of its individuality. Such disrespect, they argue, comes in the form of treating cultural traditions as data to be used to fill a mathematical "check list," or, on the other extreme, simply using one term as a "catch-all" so as to avoid distinguishing different lifestyles. On page 73, Renfrew passionately contends this opposition, suggesting that such developments would permit "a whole new range of insights into the societies under study."
After reading so much literature and so many diverse opinions on issues presented from slightly different angles, I feel as if there is a cacophony of voices bickering in my head. But I am also continually reminded of Isaac Newton's timeless testament: "If I have seen further it is by standing on the shoulders of giants." Whether two opinions are aligned or in contrast, both contribute an important element to the ongoing conversation and enable progress in the future. As anyone who has ever talked with me about the Writing Center will know, I'm a huge fan of the idea of "writing as a conversation," and I'm beyond excited to be breaking into this discussion of archaeology and culture and chiefdoms, and it's especially humbling to be able to engage in a dialogue with such a vibrant scholastic community. I'm so grateful for all of the opportunities that this internship has presented me, and I can't wait to further them with this paper!
After I post the abstract (like I promised!), the next posts will most likely concern my adventure in Peru. I leave on August 27th, so GET READY!
Look out world, here I come.
Friday, July 29, 2011
Friday, July 22, 2011
The Chiefdom Chart
It's here! Well, technically, it's here.
That's right, after much reading and organizing, I have finally created a prototype for a chiefdom chart. It is my hope that such a chart will make it easier to compare different populations to determine the extent of their settlement, given Service's social evolutionary scale of ascending social complexity: Band, Tribe, Chiefdom, State.
Whereas some may disagree with creating a sort of "checklist" to categorize a settlement, asserting that this attempts to dehumanize and reduce to mere data the human beings that make up the population, I feel that having a versatile tool with which to measure and compare different settlements is actually positive. Indeed, such an assessment does the inhabitants of the settlement in question justice because it enables us to better understand their lifestyles and their culture.
Additionally, the creation of a chiefdom chart should not be viewed as a move to homogenize cultural distinctions or cram fragile cultural features into a generic mold. This tool is, rather, a way to gauge similarities and differences in structure. In no way is it an attempt to limit or marginalize the expressions of any population.
Now, to the chart!
If you look, you will see that there are 4 columns (in the original Word document, there are only 2 columns, with certain subcategories--at any rate, in trying to put the chart on the web somehow so that you could see it, the creation of the subcategories into their own columns seems to have been a necessary point of compromise, so bear with me, please!)
The main feature of the chart is its two hemispheres. On the "General Model" side (which corresponds to the first three columns), I have listed the features that were mentioned in various articles as being strong indicators of a chiefdom. The bracketed letter-number combinations denote the article and the page on which such evidence was cited, which corresponds to the rough bibliography found at the bottom of the chart. The second side, "Heckenberger's Observations," is where I have noted Heckenberger citing instances of these features that we have just deemed indicative of a chiefdom, whether they are present-day performances or enactments suggested in the archaeological record. The numbers in parentheses correspond to the pages on which these references are made.
If you will also observe, some boxes are shaded. This is where the excitement starts--Red shading indicates areas where no evidence of the given feature was reported in Heckenberger's account. Looking at the chart, there are 5: "Special Burial Instances," "Luxury Goods," "Inheriting," "Redistribution" and "Tribute."
Yellow shading denotes areas that Dr. Carneiro and I have felt are among the strongest indicators of the presence of a chiefdom, including "Resource Concentration," "Chiefly Status," "Multiple, Interconnected Villages," "Substantial Populations" and "Warfare."
If you will note, for the majority of these particularly indicative areas there was a high quantity of references by Heckenberger. The one exception was "Chiefly Status." While this was definitely discussed more than once (i.e. more than on just page 4), these instances referred to the more modern institution of "chief," NOT a prehistoric one. Indeed, it would be difficult to ascertain whether or not there were chiefs centuries ago simply based off memory, be it written (which is nonexistent) or oral (which does not span back as far as we need it to.) However, we can recognize three subcategories that would also hint at the presence of the chief. Even though Heckenberger cites evidence for only one of these subcategories ("Palace"), we must remember that a lack of evidence does not so much assert that the feature did not exist, but rather that nothing has been found to prove that it did. We must simply wait and hope that further excavations will yield insightful clues!
I view the compilation of this chart as major headway in this research progress--it's hard to believe that I'm finally to the point where I can start compiling everything that I've learned in preparation for a final wrap-up. In fact, next week is my last week at the museum! But it's rewarding to know that all of the work and research that I've been doing for the past two months will eventually come to fruition: Dr. Carneiro and I will be writing a paper discussing these very findings, and with any luck I will be presenting it at the International Congress of Americanists conference next July. Dr. Carneiro has begun to work on the introduction to this paper, and I have created an outline of the points that I feel should be discussed (it is even more important than usual that I get all these written down and organized because this paper is more or less a response to Heckenberger, and I want to make sure I don't leave anything out!)
My next step will be to organize the chiefdom chart so that it's ordered according to the importance of the factors--for instance, because "Multiple, Interconnected Villages" is rather inherent to the idea of a chiefdom (which, as defined by Kalervo Oberg in 1955, is essentially a multi-village polity governed by a paramount ruler), it would appear at the top.
And so on!
Stay tuned :)
That's right, after much reading and organizing, I have finally created a prototype for a chiefdom chart. It is my hope that such a chart will make it easier to compare different populations to determine the extent of their settlement, given Service's social evolutionary scale of ascending social complexity: Band, Tribe, Chiefdom, State.
Whereas some may disagree with creating a sort of "checklist" to categorize a settlement, asserting that this attempts to dehumanize and reduce to mere data the human beings that make up the population, I feel that having a versatile tool with which to measure and compare different settlements is actually positive. Indeed, such an assessment does the inhabitants of the settlement in question justice because it enables us to better understand their lifestyles and their culture.
Additionally, the creation of a chiefdom chart should not be viewed as a move to homogenize cultural distinctions or cram fragile cultural features into a generic mold. This tool is, rather, a way to gauge similarities and differences in structure. In no way is it an attempt to limit or marginalize the expressions of any population.
Now, to the chart!
If you look, you will see that there are 4 columns (in the original Word document, there are only 2 columns, with certain subcategories--at any rate, in trying to put the chart on the web somehow so that you could see it, the creation of the subcategories into their own columns seems to have been a necessary point of compromise, so bear with me, please!)
The main feature of the chart is its two hemispheres. On the "General Model" side (which corresponds to the first three columns), I have listed the features that were mentioned in various articles as being strong indicators of a chiefdom. The bracketed letter-number combinations denote the article and the page on which such evidence was cited, which corresponds to the rough bibliography found at the bottom of the chart. The second side, "Heckenberger's Observations," is where I have noted Heckenberger citing instances of these features that we have just deemed indicative of a chiefdom, whether they are present-day performances or enactments suggested in the archaeological record. The numbers in parentheses correspond to the pages on which these references are made.
If you will also observe, some boxes are shaded. This is where the excitement starts--Red shading indicates areas where no evidence of the given feature was reported in Heckenberger's account. Looking at the chart, there are 5: "Special Burial Instances," "Luxury Goods," "Inheriting," "Redistribution" and "Tribute."
Yellow shading denotes areas that Dr. Carneiro and I have felt are among the strongest indicators of the presence of a chiefdom, including "Resource Concentration," "Chiefly Status," "Multiple, Interconnected Villages," "Substantial Populations" and "Warfare."
If you will note, for the majority of these particularly indicative areas there was a high quantity of references by Heckenberger. The one exception was "Chiefly Status." While this was definitely discussed more than once (i.e. more than on just page 4), these instances referred to the more modern institution of "chief," NOT a prehistoric one. Indeed, it would be difficult to ascertain whether or not there were chiefs centuries ago simply based off memory, be it written (which is nonexistent) or oral (which does not span back as far as we need it to.) However, we can recognize three subcategories that would also hint at the presence of the chief. Even though Heckenberger cites evidence for only one of these subcategories ("Palace"), we must remember that a lack of evidence does not so much assert that the feature did not exist, but rather that nothing has been found to prove that it did. We must simply wait and hope that further excavations will yield insightful clues!
I view the compilation of this chart as major headway in this research progress--it's hard to believe that I'm finally to the point where I can start compiling everything that I've learned in preparation for a final wrap-up. In fact, next week is my last week at the museum! But it's rewarding to know that all of the work and research that I've been doing for the past two months will eventually come to fruition: Dr. Carneiro and I will be writing a paper discussing these very findings, and with any luck I will be presenting it at the International Congress of Americanists conference next July. Dr. Carneiro has begun to work on the introduction to this paper, and I have created an outline of the points that I feel should be discussed (it is even more important than usual that I get all these written down and organized because this paper is more or less a response to Heckenberger, and I want to make sure I don't leave anything out!)
My next step will be to organize the chiefdom chart so that it's ordered according to the importance of the factors--for instance, because "Multiple, Interconnected Villages" is rather inherent to the idea of a chiefdom (which, as defined by Kalervo Oberg in 1955, is essentially a multi-village polity governed by a paramount ruler), it would appear at the top.
And so on!
Stay tuned :)
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
I'm Bringing It.
Well, on the bright side, this research week has gone much more smoothly than last week. No unexpected data! (Yet--knock on wood!)
I had a little less luck as far as hearing back from Dr. Heckenberger and Dr. Eriksen goes: Dr. Heckenberger emailed me this morning saying that he was looking forward to discussing these "great questions"..."in the near future," as he is currently conducting fieldwork until mid August and does not have a copy of the book with him. I really hope he meant it when he said "near," as I need to have my research completed and submitted by August 31 for the application to be part of the International Conference of Americanists presentation next year. So time is of the essence!
I'm still holding out on the hope that Dr. Eriksen will email me back, but I figured that I might as well be productive in other areas while I waited, right? So I began to make a chiefdom checklist. Many of the articles and case studies concerning chiefdoms that I have read so far have cited many similar qualities that identify a settlement as a chiefdom. I have organized and made a list of these points, and have begun going back over my notes from Heckenberger's The Ecology of Power to identify the features that the Upper Xingu (UX) shares with these other theoretical or observed models. After all, much of the difficulty concerning the uncertainty of the presence of chiefdoms in the UX results from the fact that there remains holes in our understanding of what exactly a chiefdom is.
But I'm getting frustrated. I picked up on this several times over the course of reading a variety of articles and works, but now that I'm actually trying to be organized about cataloguing chiefdom traits, I'm feeling a bit peeved. Because here's half of the problem: people just throw the words "chiefdom," "chieftancy," "chief," etc. around willy-nilly! And sometimes they don't say "chiefdom" when they want to, but rather "re-invent the wheel" and splice in some clever-sounding description that they manufactured. No wonder the issue of defining "chiefdom" has endured for so long--people are not communicating! This (along with another similar instance) has made me realize exactly how important it is to be consistent with technical vocabulary. And maybe that, too, is another source of confusion; as discussion concerning the connotations of the term takes place, "chiefdom" can no longer be employed as a causal noun. It is slowly acquiring specific traits. I've begun to make a list of topics that I absolutely must hit on in my presentation of this research, and "Clarifying 'chiefdom'--please use responsibly" is at the top of my list.
But another instance that has begun to bother me is one that I encountered occasionally as I read through Heckenberger's work. So as I read his work, I of course am keeping in mind my own research questions, looking at how what he is saying applies to what I am trying to learn. I mean, that's one of the basic processes of research. Yet every so often, I would come across a passage that made me feel like Heckenberger was reading my mind...analyzing my research questions...and flushing them down the toilet. Here's one of the more frustrating examples (and I highlighted the part that literally made my jaw drop). Heckenberger is discussing the comparisons between current settlements and the prehistoric ones, and hones in on the fact that as time has progressed, there has been a significant decrease in the population and expanse of settlements. Indeed, as we have discussed, the societies living in the UX today operate on a scale that is much smaller than the prehistoric occupants. He asserts on page 181:
"But, assuming there were 'chiefdoms' in the UX in 1492, what do we then call Xinguanos now: Tribes? Simple? Small-scale? This might be rephrased to ask not if they were chiefdoms or why and when they became so, as if there is a priori agreement as to what constitutes one in the first place, but, instead, how are they or were they chiefdoms in chiefly societies. In other words, what would a genuinely Amazonian complex society look like if we stumbled upon it?"
OK so first off, I remembered learning what "a priori" meant back in like 10th grade when we had those obnoxiously orange vocabulary books that we were expected to adopt as a new life-source. And I'll admit, that I secretly (ok, maybe openly) loved completing the vocab books. Yet I had forgotten the definition/translation of "a priori". I was pretty sure that when I looked it up, I would still feel offended, but I had to bite the bullet and make sure.
According to the lovely Merriam-Webster:
A Priori
1. a : deductive
b : relating to or derived by reasoning from self-evident propositions
c : presupposed by experience
2. a : being without examination or analysis : presumptive
b : formed or conceived beforehand
— a priori adverb
— apri·or·i·ty \-ˈȯr-ə-tē\ noun
- There's no a priori reason to think your expenses will remain the same in a new city.
- <an a priori argument for the defendant's innocence>
Antonyms: nondeductive
OK, so I can see his qualms with slapping a catch-all "chiefdom" label on societies without taking the time to explore what the term really means and how it relates to the society, but I can't help but feel like he's missing a really great opportunity to clarify that even though labels tend to be viewed negatively ("How dare you label me! I AM MY OWN PERSON! etc. etc.), carefully formulating labels in the realm of defining social structures is actually very useful. It can facilitate in comparing and contrasting societies all over the world, illustrating not just the ways in which cultures are the same (which I still think is really cool--I mean, come on, civilizations separated by hundreds of thousands of miles existing in a time when the fastest mode of transportation was probably riding a buffalo actually SHARING a common feature?! That's incredible!) but also demonstrate the characteristics of cultures that are beautifully unique. I feel like a lot of the heat that the attempt to define "chiefdom" has been hit with is coming from the recent turn in the social science community towards a more postmodern approach in which personhood and unique lifeways and the symbolism of life have become so prized that any attempt that is even remotely reminiscent of focusing on the big picture has become taboo. I am not trying to critique the postmodernist perspective here, but rather call attention to the fact that instead of waging war on people who don't adopt the same approach, there should be a little more flexibility and the consideration that what is "different" is not always "wrong," but that there is the possibility of creating a complementary analysis.
So you know what? I personally DO think that the questions of "if" the early settlers of the UX ever evolved into chiefdoms, as well as "why and when they became so" are important. I think that's exactly what needs some attention, and I'm going to give it the thought that I think it needs. The similar instances of having my research questions shot down that I ran into before this virtual diatribe on page 181 made me a little nervous--was I going about this project all wrong?--but now I'm more certain than ever that this investigation into prehistoric chiefdoms in the UX is a perspective that desperately needs to be brought to the table.
And I'm bringing it.
Booyah.
So you know what? I personally DO think that the questions of "if" the early settlers of the UX ever evolved into chiefdoms, as well as "why and when they became so" are important. I think that's exactly what needs some attention, and I'm going to give it the thought that I think it needs. The similar instances of having my research questions shot down that I ran into before this virtual diatribe on page 181 made me a little nervous--was I going about this project all wrong?--but now I'm more certain than ever that this investigation into prehistoric chiefdoms in the UX is a perspective that desperately needs to be brought to the table.
And I'm bringing it.
Booyah.
Friday, July 8, 2011
An Unexpected Treasure, a Syntactical Enigma
So I walked into the office on Wednesday, and the first thing I noticed was an unfamiliar book lying expectantly on my desk. Dr. Carneiro is always leaving me copies of interesting articles or books that he comes across that he thinks will be of help to my research, so I was eager to see what he had found this time. I read the title:
Nature and Culture in Prehistoric Amazonia.
Using G.I.S. to reconstruct ancient ethnogenetic processes
from archaeology, linguistics, geography, and ethnohistory.
Love Eriksen
and was immediately struck at how PERFECT this book sounded!
You see, I finished Heckenberger's work The Ecology of Power a few weeks ago, and while it provided a host of useful data and interpretations of their significance to the current understanding (or lack thereof) of the prehistoric Arawak settlements, I couldn't help but wish that there had been more information. For instance, when we were talking about the difficulty in pinning down the group of people that prompted the Arawaks to construct the defensive trenches in an earlier post, I made an off-hand lament about how nice it would have been if only Heckenberger had come across some remnants of weapons with a specific style of design, that one could have an indication of a source of aggression. Well, as if in response to my wish, Eriksen made an observation that seemed to be just as insightful: ceramics that are distinctly of the Tupian style and dating back to 1300 a.d. were recovered from ring village sites (70, 244). Now, when I first read that I was very excited--here, finally, was physical proof that there was a real Tupian presence in this area! Furthermore, Eriksen explains that the ring villages were most likely constructed defensively in response to an increased Tupian pressure. Not only were the Tupians THERE, then, but they were also making waves among other groups!
And then you know how sometimes you can just be walking along, totally fine, smooth sailing, and then BAM!, you're blindsided by a camoflauged tree trunk or something? Well that's kind of what happened to me. So the first thing that hit me was the date--1300 a.d.? That seems rather late--I thought Heckenberger's measurements had cast ditch construction around 950 a.d.? Even stranger was that Eriksen was referencing Heckenberger's work while describing the beginning of the appearance of "fortified villages" around 1250 a.d (70). Even worse, Eriksen continued to explain that the creation of these deposited Tupian ceramics "coincide[d] chronologically with the development of defensive structures in the Upper Xingu" (70).
Wait...what? They "coincide[d] chronologically?"
And things just went downhill from there. Of course I was still panicking over the date mismatches. In his presentation of the X6: Nokugu defensive ditch data, Heckenberger had listed at least 15 radiocarbon dates in a chart. It was very confusing to try and interpret. The descriptions of the provenience (i.e. area in question) were rather vague and jargon-heavy, and I will admit that maybe what is written might make sense to someone well-versed in archaeological terminology, but I don't speak that language! Perhaps I misinterpreted the data, and assigned a completely wrong date to the ditch construction? On the upside, I had already sent an email to Heckenberger last week to ensure that I was interpreting his data correctly. On the downside, he hasn't gotten back to me yet. I recall him being away at a conference in Brazil, so I'm sure his email is backlogged up the wazoo and my unfamiliar email address slipped by him (though I did try to make the subject line as eye-catching as possible--"Research with Dr. Carneiro: Chiefdoms in the UX," since he is good friends with Dr. Carneiro and he's a UX nut and all.) But this added challenge has prompted me to send a friendly reminder email! Hopefully I will hear back from him soon and this tangle can be straightened out.
Until then, however, I am hardly out of the thicket. There comes a second problem--however vague I found Heckenberger's descriptions to be, Eriksen's phrasing is even more difficult to understand. This is the sentence that caught my eye and prompted my initial euphoric reaction:
"The development of fortified villages in the upper Xingu was preceded by the construction of ring villages historically connected to Macro-Ge-speakers that started to appear in the Brazilian uplands around AD 800 as a response to the external pressure from Tupi-speakers" (70).
This could be my writing center tutor instincts kicking in (and tutors, if you're out there, let me just say that this would definitely fall in the strug sesh category), but each time I go back over the sentence, it leaves me more and more confused. First off, what does Eriksen even mean by "fortified villages" and "ring villages"? He never clearly explains them, in this sentence or anywhere at all! Since I've got defensive trenches on the brain (shocker), when I first read the sentence I assumed that "ring villages" referred to villages "ringed" by ditches. Makes sense, right? However, I discussed this with Dr. Carneiro, (without sharing my interpretation) and he took "ring villages" to mean villages whose houses and other structures themselves were physically assembled in rings. This, he explained, was a common organizational manuever, especially among groups of peoples who were undergoing rapid population expansion. But then I shared my interpretation with him, and he became confused as well!
And likewise, I assumed that when Eriksen said "fortified," he meant protected by (you guessed it) ditches. Dr. Carneiro was quick to slow me down and point out that there are a great deal of types of fortifications--walls, palisades, etc. If only Eriksen would have clarified! One shard of remains, however, in that Eriksen references a work a few sentences later in which he brings up the whole chronological synchronization of the UX defensive structures shabang--Wüst and Barreto in their 1999 "The Ring Villages of Central Brazil: A Challenge for Amazonian Archaeology." Again, I found myself looking at a definite upside: this article is available through Dickinson on JSTOR, so I can read it for myself! But the downside: I can't for the life of me access JSTOR through Dickinson right now. Maybe it's a spotty internet connection, so this source of confusion will have to wait a bit to be worked out.
In the meantime, there is plenty more for me to puzzle over. OK, now, I'm not even trying to be a grammar stickler here, but the structure of this sentence itself is actually really confusing. Let me show you:
"The development of fortified villages in the upper Xingu was preceded by the construction of ring villages historically connected to Macro-Ge-speakers that started to appear in the Brazilian uplands around AD 800 as a response to the external pressure from Tupi-speakers" (70).
OK, I've underlined the confusing part. (Note: that's almost the entire sentence. Great.)
Way 1: Is Eriksen saying that the ring villages started cropping up around 800 a.d. in the Brazilian uplands (which is a bit south of the UX. I know, counterintuitive that "Up"lands would be south, but the Xingu actually flows south to north) to defend themselves against the encroaching Tupi?
Or
"The development of fortified villages in the upper Xingu was preceded by the construction of ring villages historically connected to Macro-Ge-speakers that started to appear in the Brazilian uplands around AD 800 as a response to the external pressure from Tupi-speakers" (70).
Way 2: Is Eriksen saying that it was the group of Macro-Ge-speakers that arrived around 800 a.d. in the Brazilian uplands because the Tupi-speakers bumped them out of their previous lands?
What did the Tupi-speakers prompt in 800 a.d.--the ring village construction (Way 1) or a migration (Way 2)?
I don't know if I can possibly figure this out on my own, so I will try to contact Eriksen himself! This will be a bit more of a challenge than getting in touch with Heckenberger because there are no personal connections for me to utilize, but hopefully luck will be on our side!
Until then, unfortunately, I am hesitant to apply this potential snippet of gold to any of our evaluations of the potential suspects for the inspiration of the ditch construction.
I will also be anxiously awaiting some clarification from Heckenberger about his data, but if worse comes to worst I will poke around the AMNH to see if I can find an archaeologist who might be able to help. (Though Dr. Carneiro warned me that the root of all our troubles might be that these terms that Heckenberger has employed have subtle connotations that not all experts in the field would be familiar with. Better to go straight to the source, I suppose! But we will definitely keep a fall-back plan.)
We are temporarily halted by unclear data.
And we are stuck with a syntactical enigma.
Which sounds like a disease.
Keep your fingers crossed that something looks up soon!
Friday, July 1, 2011
The Hunt Continues
With 3 of our 5 suspects cleared, it's time to resume the investigation to sort out where the remaining 2 stand. Here's a quick recap of our list so far:
Suspect 1: Tupian-Gê tribes
Suspect 2: Carib tribes (Physical and Spatial Distance)
Suspect 3: Portuguese explorers (Spatial Distance)
Suspect 4: Wild Indians (ngikogo) (Threat < Labor Required)
Suspect 5: Themselves?
Great! We'll start with number 1.
Suspect 1: Tupian-Gê tribes
Heckenberger devotes a great deal of his focus to assessing the likelihood of the presence of significant Tupian-Gê because, as we mentioned in the previous post, they are the only group of peoples that the Kuikuru cite as having attacked them in living memory. Heckenberger also characterizes these groups as being rather belligerent--a historical pattern, he furthers. Personally, such generalizations typically make me skeptical; can one really (fairly) paint an entire society as behaving a certain similar way? But the route of Heckenberger's analysis of this aspect was an interesting one: he examined their settlement patterns and compared these to those implicated by the prehistoric ruins. As someone who is using settlement patterns of a sort (the defensive ditches) to provide insight into a prehistoric culture, this angle is definitely one to which I can relate.
Let's start with the baseline: the Arawak settlement tendencies and the subsequent inferences that can be made about their lifestyles. The prehistoric Arawaks are renowned for their consistent tendency to adopt sedentary lifestyles. They form communities and invest quite a bit of time and effort in agricultural endeavours, especially in planting and harvesting manioc. Arawaks, and men in particular, would essentially fall under the career categories of "fisherman" and "gardener," then. And, we must not forget, Heckenberger's insistence that the Arawaks lived by a Xinguano-wide spirit of hospitality toward others.
Now, on the opposite side of the spectrum lie the Tupian-Gê tribes. Before we discuss their more detailed characteristics, I'd first like to explain what exactly is meant by "Tupian-Gê" (better late than never, right?) These are each a different society, though they share many common characteristics (hence the practice of clumping them together, hyphenated as such.) The Tupians posed a threat to the Arawaks from the north and west. Particularly belligerent were the Tupian groups of the Kayabi, Manitsaua, Kamayurá, Aueti and Arawine. (On an unrelated note, apparently the University of Oxford Writing and Style Guide has recently decided to eliminate the Oxford comma. You know, that comma that used to be used when listing a series of items (or Tupian tribes) between the last one and the "and." Not sure how I feel about this yet, but we'll go with it for now.) The Gê tribes, on the other hand, launched attacks from the south and east. This includes the Northern and Southern Kayapó and Xavante.
Now that we've got that cleared up, let's compare the Tupian-Gê groups and the Arawaks. Whereas the prehistoric Arawaks are known for their large settlements, the Tupian-Gê are infamous for their warrior traits. Think Athens (Arawaks) compared to the Spartans. The Gê-Bororo groups, for instance, have maintained a distinctly defined warrior class. (While Heckenberger does not provide evidence for us to determine how far back this class-formation extends (was it a prehistoric feature, or just a really old one?), we can feel relatively secure in concluding that this is almost assuredly a prehistoric feature given that they are so crisply defined today. Such a class is absent from modern Kuikuru society, and Heckenberger makes no reference to a similar warrior class occupying any place in the Kuikuru collective memory.) The fact that the Gê-Bororo society has a special niche for warriors suggests that battle (and war) must have been central parts of its operations. Indeed, Heckenberger cites that, among Tupians, expressing and acting upon hostility towards enemies provides a sort of "social cohesion" (140). What better way to bond than sitting around a fire examining each other's trophy heads? (Known as "anthropophagy," the gathering of heads (or, as Heckenberger explains on page 139, "some symbolic equivalent") as war-spoils was a ritualistic practice is central to at least the modern Tupians. Yikes!)
Another stark Arawak/Tupian-Gê contrast lies in the fact that the Tupian-Gê men were not "fishermen," and they certainly weren't "gardeners"--they were intense, ruthless hunters! Clearly the men of each of these opposing categories had different societal expectations. Yet what is perhaps even more revealing than this psychological implication is its reflection in the physical tendencies of the Tupian-Gê. Whereas the Arawaks develop sedentary communities, the Tupian-Gê tribes (and among these, the Tupian-Guarani in particular) have pretty much acquired legendary status for their practice of launching long-distance raids. On page 141, Heckenberger explains that sometimes the war parties could number several hundred people and terrorize occupations some hundreds to thousands of kilometers away!!!!!!! That just boggles my mind. Heckenberger does remark that a complete Tupian entrance into central Brazil is estimated to have occurred by the 1500's. Yet whereas such timeline information was the key piece of evidence used to clear two of our other suspects (the Caribs and the Portuguese explorers), the fact that the Tupian-Gê tribes have demonstrated the ability to conduct such extensive excursions with such a large attack force dampens the impact of the apparent mismatch of the 950 a.d. ditch construction with the stronger 1500s Tupian presence.
However, there is one consideration that must be made that throws a monkeywrench in this seemingly flawless case marking the Tupian-Gê tribes as the prime suspects. On page 141, Heckenberger informs us that Tupian-Gê sieges have been cited as occurring even before the landing of the Europeans. Because the complete expansion of the Tupian-Gê tribes into the UX also occurred around the same time as the Europeans' arrivals, if not later, then it stands to reason that these tribes were conducting their long-distance sieges well before they were completely established in the UX. But the question is: Just how long before the 1500s would the Tupian population have been large enough to feature a "warrior class" alone that included several hundred members? Would their population size around 950 a.d., when one of the earliest defensive trenches at X6: Nokugu was constructed, have been substantial enough that their warrior parties would appear menacing enough to construct defensive ditches? After all, if there weren't enough Tupian-Gê members to form such a significant war party to trek such a far distance, the epic long-distance attacks couldn't very well have occurred, could they have?
Overall, the sedentary, mellow Arawak lifestyle does not hint at any of the offense-oriented characteristics similar to those suggested by the highly mobile Tupian-Gê tribes suggest. The Tupian-Gê had even tailored their agricultural practices to match their faster-paced habits. Indeed, if you're organizing epic odyssies into the great unknown depths of the jungle with hundreds of warriors, are you really going to be able to afford to commit to the 18-month growth cycle of manioc like the Arawaks? I don't think so! Had fast-food chains existed at that point, the Tupian-Gê tribes probably would have been the restaurants' number one target-audience. These guys are all about the grab 'n go.
These are what I believe to be the most salient details regarding the Tupian-Gê tribes and their potential threat to the Arawak settlements. It's quite a bit of information to consider, so let's go back over the details:
Review: Suspect 1: Tupian-Gê tribes
Evidence in support of "Guilty"
Suspect 1: Tupian-Gê tribes. Strong likelihood.
Hopefully some day there will be a breakthrough into our conception of prehistoric Amazonian civilization. But until then, just as the past of the ancient Arawaks remains vague, so, too, will the exact size of the Tupian-Gê tribes remain unknown.
To avoid drowning you in a monotonous string of (pictureless--sorry!) text, I will pick up the investigation of our fifth (and final) suspect, Suspect 5: Themselves?, in the next post. I will not bias your judgment by telling you how I feel about this party of interest, but I will say that it is a very interesting consideration and that I am very excited to explore it with you!
See you soon!
Suspect 1: Tupian-Gê tribes
Suspect 5: Themselves?
Great! We'll start with number 1.
Suspect 1: Tupian-Gê tribes
Heckenberger devotes a great deal of his focus to assessing the likelihood of the presence of significant Tupian-Gê because, as we mentioned in the previous post, they are the only group of peoples that the Kuikuru cite as having attacked them in living memory. Heckenberger also characterizes these groups as being rather belligerent--a historical pattern, he furthers. Personally, such generalizations typically make me skeptical; can one really (fairly) paint an entire society as behaving a certain similar way? But the route of Heckenberger's analysis of this aspect was an interesting one: he examined their settlement patterns and compared these to those implicated by the prehistoric ruins. As someone who is using settlement patterns of a sort (the defensive ditches) to provide insight into a prehistoric culture, this angle is definitely one to which I can relate.
Let's start with the baseline: the Arawak settlement tendencies and the subsequent inferences that can be made about their lifestyles. The prehistoric Arawaks are renowned for their consistent tendency to adopt sedentary lifestyles. They form communities and invest quite a bit of time and effort in agricultural endeavours, especially in planting and harvesting manioc. Arawaks, and men in particular, would essentially fall under the career categories of "fisherman" and "gardener," then. And, we must not forget, Heckenberger's insistence that the Arawaks lived by a Xinguano-wide spirit of hospitality toward others.
Now, on the opposite side of the spectrum lie the Tupian-Gê tribes. Before we discuss their more detailed characteristics, I'd first like to explain what exactly is meant by "Tupian-Gê" (better late than never, right?) These are each a different society, though they share many common characteristics (hence the practice of clumping them together, hyphenated as such.) The Tupians posed a threat to the Arawaks from the north and west. Particularly belligerent were the Tupian groups of the Kayabi, Manitsaua, Kamayurá, Aueti and Arawine. (On an unrelated note, apparently the University of Oxford Writing and Style Guide has recently decided to eliminate the Oxford comma. You know, that comma that used to be used when listing a series of items (or Tupian tribes) between the last one and the "and." Not sure how I feel about this yet, but we'll go with it for now.) The Gê tribes, on the other hand, launched attacks from the south and east. This includes the Northern and Southern Kayapó and Xavante.
Now that we've got that cleared up, let's compare the Tupian-Gê groups and the Arawaks. Whereas the prehistoric Arawaks are known for their large settlements, the Tupian-Gê are infamous for their warrior traits. Think Athens (Arawaks) compared to the Spartans. The Gê-Bororo groups, for instance, have maintained a distinctly defined warrior class. (While Heckenberger does not provide evidence for us to determine how far back this class-formation extends (was it a prehistoric feature, or just a really old one?), we can feel relatively secure in concluding that this is almost assuredly a prehistoric feature given that they are so crisply defined today. Such a class is absent from modern Kuikuru society, and Heckenberger makes no reference to a similar warrior class occupying any place in the Kuikuru collective memory.) The fact that the Gê-Bororo society has a special niche for warriors suggests that battle (and war) must have been central parts of its operations. Indeed, Heckenberger cites that, among Tupians, expressing and acting upon hostility towards enemies provides a sort of "social cohesion" (140). What better way to bond than sitting around a fire examining each other's trophy heads? (Known as "anthropophagy," the gathering of heads (or, as Heckenberger explains on page 139, "some symbolic equivalent") as war-spoils was a ritualistic practice is central to at least the modern Tupians. Yikes!)
Another stark Arawak/Tupian-Gê contrast lies in the fact that the Tupian-Gê men were not "fishermen," and they certainly weren't "gardeners"--they were intense, ruthless hunters! Clearly the men of each of these opposing categories had different societal expectations. Yet what is perhaps even more revealing than this psychological implication is its reflection in the physical tendencies of the Tupian-Gê. Whereas the Arawaks develop sedentary communities, the Tupian-Gê tribes (and among these, the Tupian-Guarani in particular) have pretty much acquired legendary status for their practice of launching long-distance raids. On page 141, Heckenberger explains that sometimes the war parties could number several hundred people and terrorize occupations some hundreds to thousands of kilometers away!!!!!!! That just boggles my mind. Heckenberger does remark that a complete Tupian entrance into central Brazil is estimated to have occurred by the 1500's. Yet whereas such timeline information was the key piece of evidence used to clear two of our other suspects (the Caribs and the Portuguese explorers), the fact that the Tupian-Gê tribes have demonstrated the ability to conduct such extensive excursions with such a large attack force dampens the impact of the apparent mismatch of the 950 a.d. ditch construction with the stronger 1500s Tupian presence.
However, there is one consideration that must be made that throws a monkeywrench in this seemingly flawless case marking the Tupian-Gê tribes as the prime suspects. On page 141, Heckenberger informs us that Tupian-Gê sieges have been cited as occurring even before the landing of the Europeans. Because the complete expansion of the Tupian-Gê tribes into the UX also occurred around the same time as the Europeans' arrivals, if not later, then it stands to reason that these tribes were conducting their long-distance sieges well before they were completely established in the UX. But the question is: Just how long before the 1500s would the Tupian population have been large enough to feature a "warrior class" alone that included several hundred members? Would their population size around 950 a.d., when one of the earliest defensive trenches at X6: Nokugu was constructed, have been substantial enough that their warrior parties would appear menacing enough to construct defensive ditches? After all, if there weren't enough Tupian-Gê members to form such a significant war party to trek such a far distance, the epic long-distance attacks couldn't very well have occurred, could they have?
Overall, the sedentary, mellow Arawak lifestyle does not hint at any of the offense-oriented characteristics similar to those suggested by the highly mobile Tupian-Gê tribes suggest. The Tupian-Gê had even tailored their agricultural practices to match their faster-paced habits. Indeed, if you're organizing epic odyssies into the great unknown depths of the jungle with hundreds of warriors, are you really going to be able to afford to commit to the 18-month growth cycle of manioc like the Arawaks? I don't think so! Had fast-food chains existed at that point, the Tupian-Gê tribes probably would have been the restaurants' number one target-audience. These guys are all about the grab 'n go.
These are what I believe to be the most salient details regarding the Tupian-Gê tribes and their potential threat to the Arawak settlements. It's quite a bit of information to consider, so let's go back over the details:
Review: Suspect 1: Tupian-Gê tribes
Evidence in support of "Guilty"
- Militaristic Inclinations: The highly mobile settlement patterns of the Tupian-Gê tribes, as well as their inclusion of a distinct "warrior class" and the fact that scaring the pants off UX residents actually brings the group closer together, suggest that offensive warfare was an integral part of their lifestyle.
- Long-Distance Raids: The Tupian-Gê tribes are known to have traveled thousands of kilometers, lessening the significance of the fact that Tupians are not cited as having completely expanded into the UX region until the 1500s.
- Sizeable Population?: Though the Tupian-Gê tribes are cited as having launched long-distance sieges prior to the arrival of the Europeans, it is unknown when the tribes' populations would have first been able to support such a large "warrior class." Was 950 a.d. too early?
Suspect 1: Tupian-Gê tribes. Strong likelihood.
Hopefully some day there will be a breakthrough into our conception of prehistoric Amazonian civilization. But until then, just as the past of the ancient Arawaks remains vague, so, too, will the exact size of the Tupian-Gê tribes remain unknown.
To avoid drowning you in a monotonous string of (pictureless--sorry!) text, I will pick up the investigation of our fifth (and final) suspect, Suspect 5: Themselves?, in the next post. I will not bias your judgment by telling you how I feel about this party of interest, but I will say that it is a very interesting consideration and that I am very excited to explore it with you!
See you soon!
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Friend or Foe?
Cold cases. If you thought decades-old ones were hard, try scrounging up evidence to shed light on a centuries-old one!
What we're doing today is evaluating the suspects behind the motivation for the construction of the defensive structures. Heckenberger devotes a decent portion of one of his interpretive chapters to discussing this issue of "Who," but ultimately asserts that this is the wrong question (137)--that instead of focusing on the question "What caused it?" we should be looking at the scale and nature of the warfare. And I agree that these latter two details are important to consider when trying to reconstruct a prehistoric people's lifestyle; however, I also believe that understanding the drive behind the warfare would be enlightening. What were the social dynamics like back then? What made the groups tick, you know? Plus, I feel that if someone is going to assert that some strategy is a defensive maneuver, one would have to also determine from whom this group needs protection. Otherwise, if no threat is established, "defense" seems like a pretty silly reason to do something, doesn't it?
But speaking of social dynamics reminds me of another area of concern. Heckenberger has spent an extensive period of time conducting fieldwork with the contemporary Kuikuru tribe, and as such has had a remarkable opportunity to develop an understanding of the group's social tendencies as well as to utilize the group members' historical accounts to reconstruct past social climates. This has led him to group the Kuikuru as part of a long-standing peaceful culture, and the lack of the Kuikuru's record of hostile feuds fits well with what he characterizes as the Xinguano lifestyle, which is governed by an inclination to accommodate and incorporate peacefully any outsiders. This welcoming process then triggers the "Xinguanification" of the newcomers, who eventually abandon their previous habits in favor of the Xinguano ones, spreading the tolerance. Indeed, he furthers, the Upper Xingu (UX) region can be thought of as a safe-haven, a “refuge” (147). However, while this harmonious image might hold true for the part of history that is encompassed by the contemporary Kuikuru recollection, remember that this is really just a sliver of the UX history! How reliable is this source for prehistoric information? If the Kuikuru can't explain how the ditches were built (aside from their legend), would it really be fair to expect them to be able to provide details as to why they were constructed?
Thus, as we conduct this investigation, if nothing else we must keep in mind that the current status quo (or even that recorded in the more recent Kuikuru memory) does not necessarily provide an accurate representation of the prehistoric social relations. With that said, let us begin!
I'm going to preface this investigation by saying that Heckenberger himself has yet to uncover any sort of concrete evidence that can point to a definite culprit. Ideally one would come across something like remnants of weapons fashioned in the unique style of a neighboring tribe, but unearthed within the boundaries of one the Arawak settlements (though this could suggest trade). But alas, no such objects have been found, be it that they are still waiting discovery or that no such battle residual had been left behind. Or perhaps the groups could have been kind enough to leave behind a written declaration of war. But alas, no form of written communication is known to have existed. Even oral history is less than helpful--much of the contemporary Kuikuru knowledge only spans back several centuries, and the only conflict that stands out are the attacks received at the hands of the Tupian-Gê tribes. The way we'll go about evaluating potential candidates is by taking a look at the major "suspicious" parties currently inhabiting the (UX).
This Tupian-Gê conflict that we mentioned the contemporary Kuikuru recall may seem like a strong piece of evidence implicating the Tupian-Gê tribes as the aggressors. However, we must keep in mind that in the grand scheme of the UX occupation, (stretching back to around 900 a.d., remember?) this is a relatively recent hostility. Who knows what relations were like a millennium ago? I mean, take a look at the relations among countries today: In some cases, it hasn't even taken a century for countries who were once at war with each other to develop alliances or friendships. Yet, of course, there are other countries who have been battling each other bitterly for centuries. That is why, while the Tupian-Gê tensions may exist only in recent memories, we will not discount them as potentially having even deeper roots. So we have our first suspect:
Suspect 1: Tupian-Gê tribes
Next up, we have the Carib tribes. These are the Kuikuru group's ancestors!
Suspect 2: Carib tribes
Even though the Europeans no longer have as overbearing a physical presence in South America as they once did, the results of their "interactions" (to put it politely) with the indigenous peoples had such a profound and devastating cultural impact that it's almost as if they never left.
Suspect 3: Portuguese explorers
They lurk in the shadows. They study their targets' behaviors to pinpoint the moment of least resistance. They strike without mercy. They are...WILD INDIANS! While the Tupian-Gê conflict is the only major source of tension that stands out in the collective Kuikuru memory, they did cite persisting (though sporadic), plaguing skirmishes launched by the wild indians that roamed the UX. Were the trenches a remedy to which the ancient groups found it necessary to turn for relief from these sieges?
Suspect 4: Wild Indians (ngikogo)
And finally, because no family is perfect, we must consider the fact that the early settlements did not always interact as harmoniously with each other as recent Kuikuru memory might suggest.
Suspect 5: Themselves?
Now that we've identified the potential culprits, let's evaluate the viability of each! I'm going to start with those who have the least evidence going for them, and can therefore be relatively securely eliminated.
We'll start with #2.
Suspect 2: Carib tribes
This is the group of people who originated east of theCuluene River
![]()
(Remember Heckenberger's map on page 70. I've traced the Culuene in blue. The purple-shaded area to the right (i.e. to the east) are the areas of archaeologically known Carib settlements. They adopted a unique architecture style characterized by circular houses called the Eastern Complex making it relatively easy to pick out Carib settlements.)
But we run into some problems when we try to line up the timeline that we put together regarding the ditch construction and that explained by Heckenberger on page 71. Here he indicates that the first known Carib settlements date back to around 1250 a.d. at the earliest, and their migration to the west side of the Culuene occurred around 1750 a.d. Then we look at the date range from Heckenberger's analysis of the ditch constructions at X6: Nokugu-- 950 a.d. - 1210 a.d.
Hm. One could argue in favor of the later years of the date range and hypothesize that perhaps the Arawaks were the true inspiration for the Boy Scout "Be prepared" motto, and that at X6: Nokugu they chose to dig deep trenches just in case some invasive tribe decided to make a move down the road. But 8 centuries down the road is a little much, don't you think? Another smoking gun is uncovered when Heckenberger explains: "earthwork constructions and maintenance had apparently ceased by at least the mid-1600s" due to break-outs of disease, and consequent population (163, emphasis mine).
Of course, a band of adventurous Carib delinquents could very well have crossed the Culuene R sporadically to wreak havoc before the official migration in the late 1700s. However, logic argues against engaging in such a labor-intensive project in response to what would likely have been infrequent assaults.
![]()
Plus, let's consider the geographic spread of the sites exhibiting peripheral ditches (PDs).
For one, we have X17: Hatsikugi. Now, if the Caribs were indeed the ditch-inspiring threat, it would make perfect sense that this settlement that is located so close to the known Carib occupations would merit some sort of defensive structure.
However, on the opposite end of the spectrum we have X11: Kuhikugu. It seems very unlikely that this site, almost 30 km from the nearest known Carib settlement, would have undertaken such extensive construction in response to the distant Caribs, especially if the threat was not consistent.
OK, so since there was quite a few details covered, let's recap the evidence that we have pertaining to suspect #2.
Review: Suspect 2: Carib tribes
Suspect 2: Carib tribes. CLEARED.
Up next we have the European terrors.
Suspect 3: Portuguese explorers
Our process for evaluating the explorers can follow a similar line as that used to help clear the Caribs: timing. It is indisputable that before 1492, no European explorers had even been to theAmericas
Suspect 3: Portuguese explorers. CLEARED.
OK, next!Suspect 4: Wild Indians (ngikogo)
While some indigenous peoples of the UX gradually adopted a sedentary lifestyle and began building up communities, other groups remained more individualized and mobile. These wild indians (or, as they are locally called, ngikogo) roam the region, and according to the Kuikuru they are known to be belligerent. Additionally, this belligerence appears to have been habitual—as far back as the collective Kuikuru memory spans, the ngikogo have pestered the more settled tribes. In fact, Heckenberger cites ngikogo attacks (in addition to pressures from Portuguese explorers) as part of the catalyst driving the Carib migration in 1750 a.d. (154). Though we cannot know for sure whether the ngikogo plagued the groups inhabiting the UX when they first settled the area, perhaps these skirmishes are a continuation of a centuries-old tendency. However, there is no doubt that if there were ngikogo-led sieges, the attacks would be more blitzkrieg than operational. Though perhaps resulting in real damage, these sieges would be infrequent and of minimal threat to the overall security of the settlements. With that in mind, we must ask ourselves the same question we asked when we were evaluating whether the ditches were used to fend off the ravenous peccaries: Would the Arawaks really go to such lengths, constructing elaborate, labor-intensive defense structures to protect against such sporadic attacks? It is doubtful. And because these ditches did require so much effort, this makes the ngikogo unlikely suspects (though they are less out-of-the-question than the others discussed so far).
Suspect 4: Wild Indians (ngikogo) CLEARED(ish).
So, we've eliminated 3/5 of our suspects--the Caribs, the Portuguese explorers, and the Wild Indians. The situations surrounding the remaining two suspects--the Tupian-Gê tribes and the Arawak communities themselves--are a little more complex, so we'll devote Friday's post entirely to investigating those two!
Until then!
What we're doing today is evaluating the suspects behind the motivation for the construction of the defensive structures. Heckenberger devotes a decent portion of one of his interpretive chapters to discussing this issue of "Who," but ultimately asserts that this is the wrong question (137)--that instead of focusing on the question "What caused it?" we should be looking at the scale and nature of the warfare. And I agree that these latter two details are important to consider when trying to reconstruct a prehistoric people's lifestyle; however, I also believe that understanding the drive behind the warfare would be enlightening. What were the social dynamics like back then? What made the groups tick, you know? Plus, I feel that if someone is going to assert that some strategy is a defensive maneuver, one would have to also determine from whom this group needs protection. Otherwise, if no threat is established, "defense" seems like a pretty silly reason to do something, doesn't it?
But speaking of social dynamics reminds me of another area of concern. Heckenberger has spent an extensive period of time conducting fieldwork with the contemporary Kuikuru tribe, and as such has had a remarkable opportunity to develop an understanding of the group's social tendencies as well as to utilize the group members' historical accounts to reconstruct past social climates. This has led him to group the Kuikuru as part of a long-standing peaceful culture, and the lack of the Kuikuru's record of hostile feuds fits well with what he characterizes as the Xinguano lifestyle, which is governed by an inclination to accommodate and incorporate peacefully any outsiders. This welcoming process then triggers the "Xinguanification" of the newcomers, who eventually abandon their previous habits in favor of the Xinguano ones, spreading the tolerance. Indeed, he furthers, the Upper Xingu (UX) region can be thought of as a safe-haven, a “refuge” (147). However, while this harmonious image might hold true for the part of history that is encompassed by the contemporary Kuikuru recollection, remember that this is really just a sliver of the UX history! How reliable is this source for prehistoric information? If the Kuikuru can't explain how the ditches were built (aside from their legend), would it really be fair to expect them to be able to provide details as to why they were constructed?
Thus, as we conduct this investigation, if nothing else we must keep in mind that the current status quo (or even that recorded in the more recent Kuikuru memory) does not necessarily provide an accurate representation of the prehistoric social relations. With that said, let us begin!
I'm going to preface this investigation by saying that Heckenberger himself has yet to uncover any sort of concrete evidence that can point to a definite culprit. Ideally one would come across something like remnants of weapons fashioned in the unique style of a neighboring tribe, but unearthed within the boundaries of one the Arawak settlements (though this could suggest trade). But alas, no such objects have been found, be it that they are still waiting discovery or that no such battle residual had been left behind. Or perhaps the groups could have been kind enough to leave behind a written declaration of war. But alas, no form of written communication is known to have existed. Even oral history is less than helpful--much of the contemporary Kuikuru knowledge only spans back several centuries, and the only conflict that stands out are the attacks received at the hands of the Tupian-Gê tribes. The way we'll go about evaluating potential candidates is by taking a look at the major "suspicious" parties currently inhabiting the (UX).
This Tupian-Gê conflict that we mentioned the contemporary Kuikuru recall may seem like a strong piece of evidence implicating the Tupian-Gê tribes as the aggressors. However, we must keep in mind that in the grand scheme of the UX occupation, (stretching back to around 900 a.d., remember?) this is a relatively recent hostility. Who knows what relations were like a millennium ago? I mean, take a look at the relations among countries today: In some cases, it hasn't even taken a century for countries who were once at war with each other to develop alliances or friendships. Yet, of course, there are other countries who have been battling each other bitterly for centuries. That is why, while the Tupian-Gê tensions may exist only in recent memories, we will not discount them as potentially having even deeper roots. So we have our first suspect:
Suspect 1: Tupian-Gê tribes
Next up, we have the Carib tribes. These are the Kuikuru group's ancestors!
Suspect 2: Carib tribes
Even though the Europeans no longer have as overbearing a physical presence in South America as they once did, the results of their "interactions" (to put it politely) with the indigenous peoples had such a profound and devastating cultural impact that it's almost as if they never left.
Suspect 3: Portuguese explorers
They lurk in the shadows. They study their targets' behaviors to pinpoint the moment of least resistance. They strike without mercy. They are...WILD INDIANS! While the Tupian-Gê conflict is the only major source of tension that stands out in the collective Kuikuru memory, they did cite persisting (though sporadic), plaguing skirmishes launched by the wild indians that roamed the UX. Were the trenches a remedy to which the ancient groups found it necessary to turn for relief from these sieges?
Suspect 4: Wild Indians (ngikogo)
And finally, because no family is perfect, we must consider the fact that the early settlements did not always interact as harmoniously with each other as recent Kuikuru memory might suggest.
Suspect 5: Themselves?
Now that we've identified the potential culprits, let's evaluate the viability of each! I'm going to start with those who have the least evidence going for them, and can therefore be relatively securely eliminated.
We'll start with #2.
Suspect 2: Carib tribes
This is the group of people who originated east of the
(Remember Heckenberger's map on page 70. I've traced the Culuene in blue. The purple-shaded area to the right (i.e. to the east) are the areas of archaeologically known Carib settlements. They adopted a unique architecture style characterized by circular houses called the Eastern Complex making it relatively easy to pick out Carib settlements.)
But we run into some problems when we try to line up the timeline that we put together regarding the ditch construction and that explained by Heckenberger on page 71. Here he indicates that the first known Carib settlements date back to around 1250 a.d. at the earliest, and their migration to the west side of the Culuene occurred around 1750 a.d. Then we look at the date range from Heckenberger's analysis of the ditch constructions at X6: Nokugu-- 950 a.d. - 1210 a.d.
Hm. One could argue in favor of the later years of the date range and hypothesize that perhaps the Arawaks were the true inspiration for the Boy Scout "Be prepared" motto, and that at X6: Nokugu they chose to dig deep trenches just in case some invasive tribe decided to make a move down the road. But 8 centuries down the road is a little much, don't you think? Another smoking gun is uncovered when Heckenberger explains: "earthwork constructions and maintenance had apparently ceased by at least the mid-1600s" due to break-outs of disease, and consequent population (163, emphasis mine).
Of course, a band of adventurous Carib delinquents could very well have crossed the Culuene R sporadically to wreak havoc before the official migration in the late 1700s. However, logic argues against engaging in such a labor-intensive project in response to what would likely have been infrequent assaults.
Plus, let's consider the geographic spread of the sites exhibiting peripheral ditches (PDs).
For one, we have X17: Hatsikugi. Now, if the Caribs were indeed the ditch-inspiring threat, it would make perfect sense that this settlement that is located so close to the known Carib occupations would merit some sort of defensive structure.
However, on the opposite end of the spectrum we have X11: Kuhikugu. It seems very unlikely that this site, almost 30 km from the nearest known Carib settlement, would have undertaken such extensive construction in response to the distant Caribs, especially if the threat was not consistent.
OK, so since there was quite a few details covered, let's recap the evidence that we have pertaining to suspect #2.
Review: Suspect 2: Carib tribes
- Mismatched timing: The ditches in one site (X6: Nokugu) were constructed between 950 and 1210 a.d. The Caribs lived east of the Culuene R between 1250 and 1750 a.d.
- Discouraging distance: X11: Kuhikugu features PDs, but is located almost 30 kilometers from the closest known Carib settlement.
Suspect 3: Portuguese explorers
Our process for evaluating the explorers can follow a similar line as that used to help clear the Caribs: timing. It is indisputable that before 1492, no European explorers had even been to the
OK, next!Suspect 4: Wild Indians (ngikogo)
While some indigenous peoples of the UX gradually adopted a sedentary lifestyle and began building up communities, other groups remained more individualized and mobile. These wild indians (or, as they are locally called, ngikogo) roam the region, and according to the Kuikuru they are known to be belligerent. Additionally, this belligerence appears to have been habitual—as far back as the collective Kuikuru memory spans, the ngikogo have pestered the more settled tribes. In fact, Heckenberger cites ngikogo attacks (in addition to pressures from Portuguese explorers) as part of the catalyst driving the Carib migration in 1750 a.d. (154). Though we cannot know for sure whether the ngikogo plagued the groups inhabiting the UX when they first settled the area, perhaps these skirmishes are a continuation of a centuries-old tendency. However, there is no doubt that if there were ngikogo-led sieges, the attacks would be more blitzkrieg than operational. Though perhaps resulting in real damage, these sieges would be infrequent and of minimal threat to the overall security of the settlements. With that in mind, we must ask ourselves the same question we asked when we were evaluating whether the ditches were used to fend off the ravenous peccaries: Would the Arawaks really go to such lengths, constructing elaborate, labor-intensive defense structures to protect against such sporadic attacks? It is doubtful. And because these ditches did require so much effort, this makes the ngikogo unlikely suspects (though they are less out-of-the-question than the others discussed so far).
So, we've eliminated 3/5 of our suspects--the Caribs, the Portuguese explorers, and the Wild Indians. The situations surrounding the remaining two suspects--the Tupian-Gê tribes and the Arawak communities themselves--are a little more complex, so we'll devote Friday's post entirely to investigating those two!
Until then!
Monday, June 27, 2011
A Clarification
The last time we spoke, we were discussing the mysterious trenches surrounding at least four (possibly 5) of the ancient Upper Xingu (UX) settlements. We considered several hypotheses to explain the reason behind their construction, ranging from attempts to thwart ravenous peccaries to advances in irrigation. Finally, however, we settled on accepting that the trenches served as defensive structures, especially since the sites at which the ditches are present have yielded archaeological evidence (complex road structures, elaborate central plazas) to suggest that these occupations were major residential centers. Gotta protect the goods, right?
Then we looked at a picture of one of the trenches at X6: Nokugu.
This picture, actually:
This picture, actually:
I led you in marveling at its dimensions--3 ft. by 17 ft., as recorded by Heckenberger. And I'm still taken aback at how deep that is. It truly must have required a substantial amount of labor, and what a terrible fate awaited any ne'er-do-well that should happen across it. Such a defensive trench seems pretty efficient, and pretty tidy!
But then, a thought occurred to me.
The dimensions.
Yes, 17 ft., that's quite a depth, and if someone fell (or was pushed?!) into that, the result would not be pretty.
But 3 ft.? What good would having a 3 ft.-wide ring around an important settlement do?
In my mind, I envisioned what a hostile attack on X6: Nokugu might have looked like from this perspective:
 |
| Enemy approaches! Clearly very hostile. |
 |
| "But what's this? A treacherously deep defensive ditch? Does this mean I won't be able to attack the village on the other side?" |
 |
| "...Nope." |
 |
| (Running start) |
 |
| "HAHAHAHAAA!" |
 | |||
| "Ready or not, here I come!" |
If the defensive ditch is only 3 ft. wide, I'm pretty sure that any enemy willing to go through the effort of attacking a populous village would have no trouble jumping over it.
So, understandably, I was a little confused--this doesn't exactly make for the strongest "defensive structure" argument. I needed some answers!
The first thing I did was reread the caption of the Heckenberger's trench photo, incredulously.
"Fig. 3.8 Excavation of trench one (1993; top) and trench 10 (2002), both bisecting ditch two at Nokugu. Note trench 10 was 5.2 meters deep from the base of the narrow funnel-shaped basal portion (about 1 meter wide), a possible seat for palisade trunks, to the top of the inside berm" (85).
And therein lay the problem. Well, problems. In my excitement at actually having a picture of the infamous trenches, I didn't read the caption very carefully. While these pictures are, in fact, structures found at X6: Nokugu, they're not the peripheral ditches that primarily concern us. So what the heck are they, then?
Let's take a look at the X6: Nokugu GPS plan, shall we? (p.82):
Now, I originally thought Heckenberger was referring to the middle arc. But actually, the pictures he provides are of two "trenches" that cross the arc at one of these 3 points:
So, fail on my part. (I just assumed that people would take and share photographs of the most interesting discoveries. I guess not.)
However, another difficulty arises in that, according to Heckenberger's caption, he unofficially makes a distinction between the terms "trench" and "ditch," whereby only "ditch" refers to the earthworks interpreted as defensive structures ("trench" apparently refers to another hole in the ground of debatable purpose). This is a risky move on his part that should not be made so subtly--much of the literature I have come across have used these two interchangeably, and many scholars, such as Dr. Carneiro, have preferred to use "trench" when speaking of the defensive structures. (And anyway, if I had to pick one, I would be inclined to select "trench" myself--I mean, as far as connotations go, "ditch" doesn't have a very strong one. It's like, "Oh, yeah, I tripped and fell in a ditch." Or, "Come on, Johnny, let's go dig a ditch." As opposed to "Oh, yeah, I fell in a TRENCH." Or, "Come on, let's go dig a TRENCH!" You don't exactly get the same mental image with both of those words, do you? For the sake of this blog, I will align myself with the others in the anthropology/archaeology community that use "ditch" and "trench" interchangeably. If I use one of these terms and I'm NOT referring to the defensive structures, I'll say so.
As far as I'm concerned, two very important lessons can be taken from this experience.
#1. Read captions carefully.
#2. Do not assume readers will interpret the connotations of technical terms in the same manner in which one has used them.
I'll definitely remember these, especially when it comes time to organize our research into a public paper.
As far as I'm concerned, two very important lessons can be taken from this experience.
#1. Read captions carefully.
#2. Do not assume readers will interpret the connotations of technical terms in the same manner in which one has used them.
I'll definitely remember these, especially when it comes time to organize our research into a public paper.
Yet even after I identified my misunderstanding, I was still concerned--what WERE the dimensions of the other ditches, then? As far as I could tell, Heckenberger never really gave a definite account of the precise physical dimensions of the ditches (though I will admit, I am less inclined to trust my initial impressions now, after that caption fiasco! But I did revisit the site descriptions in search of measurements, but to no avail.)
Well, what were the trenches like? How in the world would I be able to get an answer that question? The mysterious trenches of the UX aren't exactly high up on the "Most Visited Destinations" list. Where in the world would I be able to find someone else who had seen these structures? Dr. Carneiro, of course! After all, he was one of the first anthropologists to study in the UX. So the next day I explained my confusion, and tenuously took him through my mental image of the jumping invader, very much afraid that the entire "defensive structure" theory would be unraveled at any moment. But Dr. Carneiro put my fears to rest:
Though he did not have extensive exposure to the X6: Nokugu peripheral ditches, he was very familiar with those at X11: Kuhikugu to the south. As Heckenberger describes X11: Kuhikugu, back in its day this was the largest residential site (79), so we can be sure that there were things worth protecting at this location.
For reference, here is the site plan:
Now, Dr. Carneiro himself has stood alongside the external trench (the one that I've faintly highlighted in yellow), and while he never conducted any formal measurements of the structures, he estimated that the ditch ran approximately 8-9 ft. deep, and spanned a width of about the same. That's roughly half the depth of Heckenberger's X6: Nokugu "trenches," but the width makes the X11: Kuhikugu ditches 100x more formidable.
"Defensive structures," it would appear,
is still on the table as a probable explanation.
Hooray!
Now that I've made that clarification, I promise we'll continue with our investigation!
Up next: Who posed such a threat to the Arawaks (remember, in the last post we discussed that the implications of Heckenberger's soil dating results put the settlement of X6: Nokugu, for one, at c. 900 a.d., meaning the Arawaks were the ones who erected these occupations) that they would undertake the construction of such defensive structures?
(I also just want to point out that I went back and reread the above caption for the X11: Kuhikugu plan extra-closely after I realized my faux-pas with the X6: Nokugu situation, and Heckenberger himself uses the term "trench" to describe these same structures that he also refers to as "peripheral ditches" in other instances.)
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