DRAFT
Prologue: Reflections on Lo Andino
Although many Andean societies were altered significantly by European contact and
colonialism, it appears that in some cases nothing that is notably colonial or European
explains the organizational changes experienced by some societies over the past few
centuries. These changes were likely created and regulated by Andean peoples
themselves, as many scholars have argued. Yet, until recent modern times, to what extent
have Andean peoples primarily maintained themselves precisely through their own selfgenerated reconstruction and accommodation--their indigenous structures (i.e., lo andino)
maintaining themselves by changing themselves? This is one of several questions related
to the notion of lo andino.
There also is the question of lo andino within lo andino, implying variation within the
ways and means Andean societies maintained themselves through local or self-generated
reconstruction and accommodation as they interacted with other Andean societies in the
past and changed themselves according to their own local (and perhaps less regional or
pan-Andean) structures. That is, the idea of lo andino does not necessarily have to be
excluded to the colonial and modern periods. Contact and interaction between
prehispanic Andean peoples also created situations of differences whereby local groups
confronted with more powerful states readjusted themselves through their own
indigenous structures, as must have been the case with the expansion of the Inka, Chimu,
Huari, Tiwanaku and other states into distant lands.
In Andean studies, the periods and places of most study are state societies and times of
abrupt change forced upon local groups from outside and above. Whether it be Huari,
Tiwanaku, Chimu, Inka or modern cultures and globalization, we all are dealing in some
way with the complex interplay between local context and global content (the latter being
the Andean world in pre-colonial times), rather than arguing for the primacy of one over
the other. Most archeologists treat past contacts between the local and global as some
kind of celebration of creative and inevitable appropriation of local populations by the
state, but this was not always necessarily the case. As I see it, the interactions between
different Andean societies did not always consist of common Andean content, a lexicon
of goods or knowledges. Instead it likely was a common set of Andean formats and
structures that mediated between more or less different degrees of being Andean (e.g.,
marginal lowland cultures along the eastern flanks of the Andes, Araucanians);
something more than a flow of goods and ideas, or of the meanings attached to them, or
even the political, economic, and social channels along which those goods, ideas and
meanings flowed. That is, the connections between interacting groups were created by
widespread and both common and uncommon forms of Andean contexts for the exercise
of power over what to produce and to consume. These contexts probably followed
Andean channels that placed diversity in a recognizable frame, so to speak, and scaled it
along a limited number of possible outcomes and dimensions, whether those were
conquests, commensal feasts, physical conflicts, alliances, etc., all facing dissimilarities,
similarities, and submerging others.
I believe that what we find when exploring the patterning and meaning of intersocietal
interactions in the Andes is not always a strictly imposed hegemonic model of state
control but a wide range of dynamic ways of interpreting processes of interaction and
change on both the local and the global Andean level, in both the past and present. The
conquered and the conquering were both capable of creating dynamic adjustments that
delineated historical processes. Within the Andean past, there was great variation in
levels and types of historical outcomes, just as there is in the modern world. I submit that
the ease of (and perhaps even the type of) contact and interaction (e.g., mutualism,
control, resistance) between different societies was facilitated by the degree of legibility
between them. I define legibility as the process of reading, understanding, and altering
frameworks of interaction and of creating and altering responses informed by mutual
understandings of shared structures, meanings, and principles of organization. The closer
the legibility between two or more societies, then the greater the chance of compatibility
and perhaps the greater ease of interaction, restructuring, assimilation, and/or control
between them
Legibility implies a reflexive and subjective awareness on the part of groups of their
abilities to make situational and/or more lasting adjustments to new social orderings,
because they are familiar with the structures and principles of organization of the society
with which they interact with. An approach which emphasizes the readjustment of local
society as a partially self-guided process by which local or state institutions were
selectively altered, consumed, and/or reemployed locally or regionally, does at least have
the benefit of focusing upon the effects of these institutions and upon the compatible
ruptures and fits between them. But it is not just the institutions themselves that require
study but equally the new social relations that were constructed and altered through their
consumption. In short, a flexible interaction between some societies likely arose when
the multiplicity of levels and types of principles of organization within and between them
is given more consideration on their own terms, whether they be local, Andean global, or
world global. Perhaps we too often see all reactions between past groups in contact as
homogenous responses, when in fact there must have been empirical, historical
differences of contact between them. Lastly, I am not implying that all groups interacting
in the past and present followed the course of action described above, but many probably
did.
In demonstrating some of the points raised above, I provide a case study of lo andino/lo
araucano drawn from the Mapuche or Araucanians of the 16th and 17th centuries in the
south Andes and their acts of legibility with the Inka and their anti-colonialism with the
Spanish. I have taken a few paragraphs from my book on the Araucanians that is
published in March, 2007, and rewritten others to accommodate the theme of the
VANCHIVARD workshop. The book focuses on the aesthetic and therapeutic landscapes
of the Araucanians, which employed Andean, Araucanian and possible Amazonian
principles of spatial, social and spiritual organization, to restructure indigeneous society
in order to defeat and resist the Spanish empire. Once the draft is completed, I will
provide a bibliography section.
Araucanian and Inka Case Study: Selected Sections Drawn and/or Rewritten
from Monuments, Empires, and Resistance: Araucanian Ritual Narratives and Polity
Formation in the South Andes, Cambride University Press (Dillehay 2007)
Prologue
A major premise of my study is that the Araucanians instituted major social,
demographic, and ideological changes in the sixteenth through the eighteenth centuries to
establish territorial sovereignty and to form a new order. Although influenced by outside
pressures and institutions, these changes were “self-generated reconstructions and
accommodations” guided by indigenous principles of organization. There are easily
recognizable continuities in several spatial, material, and symbolic patterns observed in
the archeological, ethnohistorical, and ethnographic records that allow us to reliably
connect important principles of organization, historical processes, and social processes.
In my book, I reveal how Araucanian ritual narratives, past and present, and the
metaphors they contain are important sources of information about the coherent and
consistent body of thought and the changing principles of organization that have
sustained the Araucanians for centuries, but especially during the 16th and 17th centuries
when the Araucanians were in sporadic contact first with the Inka and later with the
Spanish. Contained within the rituals are messages that define the responsibilities and
benefits of membership within local patrilineages and of belonging to a newly ordered
polity and of the culturally defined reciprocal relationships between the living and the
spiritual worlds of deities, ancestors, and mounds. I map out a broad understanding of the
protohistoric and early historic Araucanian society and culture and especially the
changing morphologies of social spaces: the spatialized contexts of polity formation, the
construction of landscape as ritual, therapeutic, symbolic, and aesthetic spaces, and the
effects of political policies on the physical shape of mounded landscapes and domestic
settlements. Both the spatial and material records of the Araucanians represent what a
newly reorganized polity looked like in responding to outside pressures and in
restructuring itself inside. Also discussed in the book are the pre-Hispanic Andean and
Inka and Spanish influences in the Araucanian society, and how old indigenous
institutions were telescopically transformed into new and larger geopolitical and religious
institutions. That is, these institutions were made larger and more effective by extending
overlapping and legible principles of Andean organization one inside another.
The Araucanians have undoubtedly undergone considerable changes over the past four
centuries and cannot just be taken as a minimally modified indigenous society. However,
contact between the Spanish and the Araucanians in the 16th and 17th centuries was
intermittent and focused primarily on sporadic armed conflict, mainly along the frontier
zone, and later on long-distance raiding and trading into Argentina. Minimal contact
allowed many traditional aspects of the religious, ideological, and social organization of
the Araucanians to continue or to restructure themselves in terms of indigenous--lo
Araucano for our purposes here-- rather than European principles of organization. Even
later, during the early reduccion period in the twentieth century, the Chilean government
essentially took a hands-off policy toward the Araucanians except in cases of conflict
with European colonists. As many scholars have implied, nothing that is notably colonial
or European explains the organizational changes experienced by the Araucanians over the
past few centuries. These changes were mainly created and regulated by the Araucanians
themselves, as Padden (1993) and others (see also Dillehay 1999, 2002) have argued.
That is, until recent modern times the Araucanians primarily maintained themselves
precisely through their own self-generated reconstruction and accommodation (sensu
Sahlins 1985); their indigenous structure maintained itself by changing itself. However,
since the early 1990s, many Araucanians have changed significantly due to
modernization, evangelism, and new indigenous laws designed to exploit the natural
resources on their lands (Anonymous 1993; Bengoa 1985; Faiola 1999; Millaman 1993).
These changes have largely been directed by government laws, NGOs, and other nonindigenous organizations, which have resulted in more rapid culture change and
incorporation into Chilean society. I point out these distinctions because we need to be
aware of the differences between indigenous principles of organization restructured by
the Araucanians and hybrid principles later partially formed by European colonialism and
modernization (Dillehay 2002; A. Saavedra 2002).
Colonialism and Anti-Colonialism
Recent anthropological theory has stressed the importance of analyzing the changing
organizational transformations in social and political relations as the product of
colonialism and of culture contact and interaction between societies. My analysis of the
early colonial history of the Araucanians and their relationship with external societies has
centered on five basic issues.
1. Political and religious organizations: On what basis did the Araucanians form and
maintain a new social order and polity that united regional social, religious,
therapeutic, and political organizations to resist outsiders (e.g., Allen 1999; Comaroff
1998; Cooper 2005; Smith 2003)?
2. Local spheres of interaction and recruitment: What was the relationship between local
populations of stable lineages and lineages displaced by armed conflict? How did
lineages employ certain forms of tactical and strategical organization in special
settings to increase their power and to achieve higher forms of social order (sensu
Wolf 1999)?
3. Recruitment and expansion: How did local lineages expand their power through
shamanism, commensal ritual feasting (Dietler 1996), the construction and use of
therapeutic landscapes, and the recruitment, adoption, and annexation of other
groups?
4. Imagined or utopic polity of resistance: How did Araucanian leaders envision and
construct a new social order on the basis of traditional and new principles of
organization (e.g., Anderson 1983; Cooper 2005; Marin 1984, 1992)?
5. Archeological expressions of these interactions and organizations: What were the
material and spatial signatures, especially mound-building, of a new order and polity
formation?
Colonialism is widely recognized as an institution that produced enduring hierarchies of
subjects and knowledges – the colonizer and the colonized, the civilized and the
primitive, the scientific and the superstitious, and the developed and the underdeveloped
(Boccara 2000; Comaroff 1998; Cooper 2005; Prakash 1995; Stein 2005; Stocking 1987).
The scholarship in different disciplines has made us all too aware that such dichotomies
often reduce complex differences and interactions to the binary logic of wethey and
selfother relations and colonial power. For many scholars, colonialism implies that the
European colonizer transformed the colonized into primarily a political and economic
dependent, with the relation leading to major cultural change and syncretism, to
underdevelopment of the latter, and to depopulation by exposure to new diseases and
armed conflict (Alcock et al. 2001; Bengoa 2003; Boccara 1999; Dobyns 1983; Gosden
2004; Kicza 1993; Ramenofsky 1988). As a result of these transformations, traditional
indigenous structures usually come into view only after they have been analyzed through
a colonial “eyeglass.” However, these structures and the histories of their transformations
often are covered over flimsily by scholars and can be recovered through in-depth
analyses. There also are several accounts of the resistance of the colonized, but few
treatments of their successful resistance as analytical events or even archeological
expressions. There exist descriptions of these successes, but their conceptions are
frequently treated as glorified myths and military histories for anthropologists to decode
and interpret. While there are accounts of Western dominations, we have yet to fully
recognize other histories of indigenous agency, knowledge, or victory in the colonial
past.
While most indigenous groups in the Americas were transformed rapidly by colonialism,
it did not exist at the outset of contact between the Araucanians and the Spanish and later
was minimal until the late eighteenth century. The Araucanian’s defeat of the Spanish at
the beginning of the seventeenth century and their anticolonialism transgressed the
interethnic internal polarities of south-central Chile as it politically articulated a stressed
population. The Spanish recognized that the first Araucanians they encountered south of
the Bio Bio River in south-central Chile formed a viable political unity – the estado – and
that they constituted a territorial national essence opposed to that of the Spanish
colonizers. But the creation of this unity required the invocation of difference, of
symbolic and physical defiance, and of the creation of a new society and utopic order.
These assertions were not merely polemical responses to the Spanish invaders; instead,
there are hints that the late sixteenth and early seventeenth century Araucanians
underscored the necessity of tactical and strategic organizational planning and the
production of a sacred landscape to both symbolize and materialize utopic1 (Marin 1984,
1992) planning for the long-term success of the polity’s unity. Thus, I believe that the
demand for a newly ordered geopolitical territory (e.g., ayllarehue and butanmapu units
in the case of the Araucanians) was partially anchored symbolically in appeals to a
“distant” Inka empire, and the unity of the ethnic Araucanian subject was partially forged
in the historical spaces of the previous achievements, differences, and conflicts of the
Inka and of their own ancestors and deities. But if Araucanian nationalism achieved part
of its authority from the transgression of Inka (and Andean) political symbolism, it also
announced its own process of emergence during this period. It normalized and contained
its own space of internal differences that it invoked in performing the polity’s unity. I
argue that this process first arose at the intersection of political, social, and cultural
differences internal to the Araucanian population and sought to negotiate a confederated
regional unity that became the prolonged force of resistance and anticolonialism.
Crucial to understanding the successful anticolonialism and polity-formation of the
Araucanians was the struggle of patrilineage-agents (i.e., leaders, shamans, priests,
military personnel, and others) to impose a higher, more centralized level of political and
economic order and a new social organization for politically strategic ends (Boccara
1999; Dillehay 2002). The initial emergence of incipient agriculture and petty moundbuilding between A.D. 1200 and 1500 was related to population growth, social emulation,
competitive feasting, and differential power relations between lineages in highly fertile,
circumscribed valleys (Dillehay 1976, 1981, 1990c, 1992a; 1999, 2002). Between A.D.
1500 and 1600, the explosive development of mound complexes and extensive lineage
agricultural villages in Purén and Lumaco and, to a lesser extent, other valleys in southcentral Chile represents a major settlement and political shift. These localities became
important nodes of population nucleation, settlement hierarchy, politico–religious
centralization, societal reorganization, and polity-formation. I argue in the book that the
development of this polity is specifically related to the tactical, structural, and
organizational power (sensu Wolf 1999) of ruling agents who drastically and rapidly
reorganized the society at a higher sociopolitical level by recruiting groups fragmented by
warfare along the Araucanian–Spanish frontier and by incorporating them into their
lineages (or ranked lineages under them) through public feasting at rehuekuel or mound
complexes and ceremonial spaces that are in use today (Dillehay 1990a, 1995), and by
geographical expansion by means of the annexation of neighboring lineage territories and
of secondary mound-building in them. These strategies permitted leaders to increase the
size of their lineages, to provide them with more warriors, to solidify their internal
coherence, to expand their geopolitical reach, and to politically unify and confederate
among themselves. Both the written and archeological records suggest that leadership
power geographically shifted from one dynastic lineage to another as leaders cyclically
gained and lost power. Shamanic ceremonies and the employment of sacred knowledge
and cosmological principles also were important in uniting different groups and in
legitimizing rulers’ power. Not all of these transformations occurred evenly in
Araucanian territory or everywhere but only in strategic locations, which were favorable
to geopolitical defense, sustainable population nucleation, and intensive agriculture, and
where some local lineages were victorious and sustained long-term resistance to
outsiders. These strategies of emergent complexity and polity-formation are inferred
primarily from historic texts, which present dated and named events, the size and
movement of specific lineages, competitive recruiting and annexing by lineage leaders,
cyclical rise and fall of patrilineages, interlineage alliances, conflicts with the Spanish,
and named and dated locations of patrilineage residential areas and rehuekuel complexes,
especially in the Purén-Lumaco area (e.g., Bibar [1555] 1966; Góngora de Marmolejo
[1575] 1960; Núñez de Pineda [1673] 2003; Quiroga [1690] 1979; Rosales [1674] 1989).
Specifically, the Araucanian case provides a rich, detailed corpus of material relevant to
understanding a newly formed complex society in which central leadership authority,
often of a military nature, was paired with a ceremonial power structure that was
segmentary and situationally heterarchical and hierarchical, as well as patrilineage groups
in which considerable complexity was achieved through cyclical recruitment, annexation,
and feasting. However, the rise of the Araucanian polity was not just related to
centralized religio-political power in kuel and rehuekuel and increased cooperation for
defense and competition for fragmented groups, but to a marked reorganizational shift
that was orchestrated by confederated patrilineages. This shift produced new spaces for
agency and identity that was constantly negotiated and ritually enacted to bring about a
higher order of social cohesion and resistance to outsiders. The distribution of religiopolitical power and the way it was tactically and strategically organized in Araucanian
and Andean terms, among several consensually confederated entities (i.e., individual
rulers, patrilineages, ayllarehue ceremonial groups, butanmapu) is believed to be the
primary Araucanian strategy that successfully resisted the consolidation of power by
outsiders for more than three centuries.
Specifically, the Araucanians curated and enlarged the landscapes around rehuekuel to
make them (1) aesthetically pleasing to the attending deities and ancestors and to the
living ritual audiences and (2) architecturally and spatially legible to people who were
accustomed to viewing and being around similar but smaller and less numerous design
features in public ceremony. In studying the megalithic monuments of Great Britain,
Pollard (2001:314–316; cf. Pollard and Ruggles 2001 and Bradley’s [1998, 2000]
“ritualization process”) refers to the aesthetics of artifact deposition and to the perception
of effectiveness that “intimately related to [the] effort and care expended upon the
appropriate section, arrangement, and burial of things.” He believes that the placement of
individual artifacts may not have inspired an aesthetic sense, but the collective
association and spatial arrangement of several objects and the construction of several
monuments together in the same space imparts an “aesthetic effectiveness,” which may
relate to the identity of places, the negotiated values and obligations of groups, and the
character of personhoods. In effect, depositional arrangements are “performative in that
they draw on inventive constructs of material resources that employed [and suggested]
notions of correct actions” (sensu Thomas 1991; Pollard 2001:316). Consideration of the
aesthetics of effectiveness thus extends beyond the functional–structural meaning of
utopically negotiated spaces to the cogency of places such as different kuel (individual
mounds) and rehuekuel and their individual locations, construction plans of these
architectural features, viewsheds to and from them, the histories of these places, and the
practices in bringing about change and reordering society. The utopic vision of the
Araucanian society is expressed in the totality of the constructed architectural ideology of
the valley landscape, not just the artifact and site levels. Taken together, the construction
of mounds on the ñichi platforms of rehuekuel in topographically unique settings that can
be viewed from afar and, in turn, can see in the distance to other rehuekuel, the
immediate spatial layout of several kuel in rehuekuel), and the ritual practice at rehuekuel
all depict a “creative play, or bricolage,” (sensu Thomas 1991) of effective social
compatriotism and political solidarity between struggling populations within the wider
Araucanian cause. We see later that some rehuekuel occupy more aesthetically majestic
topographic settings and are situated in places that produced more social histories than
others, which, for the Araucanians, imbues them with reverence, deep history, and
acknowledgement. Also important are the way these settings are perceived at night under
a full moon, the milky way, and other constellations or by torch and other artificial
lighting used during ceremonies. In effect, the aesthetically designed landscape, whether
observed during the daytime or nighttime, appealed to the divine world of the deities and
ancestors in the sky above the earth’s surface and embedded it within the daily activities
of the living.
Araucanian, Inka and Spanish Interactions
In effect, both Inka and Spanish colonialism produced lasting demographic, economic,
and political repercussions. Throughout the history of both the Inka and Spanish empires
refugees escaped from the domination of their lands, and military and other personnel
deserted the state armies and resided with populations located in remote areas beyond the
state frontier. Changing empire relations in frontier zones fostered many contradictions
and opportunities not only for the Inka and Spanish, but for local populations as well. In
fear of these powerful outsiders, both intact and fragmented local populations often
developed new alliances and formerly independent groups integrated into new political
organizations to defend their lands.
The Araucanians, as other Andean societies, were subjected to the expansionistic and
integrative tendencies of these two great colonial empires, as they conquered and moved
through central Chile and produced a domino effect of shifting formal and informal
frontiers that also impacted populations residing in distant neighboring lands, including
south-central Chile. These effects created different kinds of frontier contact situations
between state personnel and Araucanian populations. These situations often produced
more cultural, ethnic, and racial mixing than developed in more politically controlled
areas of the state. They not only provided occasions for military conflict but also
opportunities for the exchange of ideas, goods, and peoples and for the further
development of some indigenous populations such as the Araucanians.
As developed in the book, I believe that the political, religious, and knowledge structures
of the Inka and Araucanians, were, upon initial contact between them, mutually legible
because both were essentially Andean societies at their core. This familiarity opened the
opportunity for the Araucanians to adopt certain Inka ways. This does not always imply
that exact Inka knowledges and practices were executed but that they might have been
cast in new ways. These local and pan-Andean knowledges were absorbed, mixed, and
banked in memory and repeated in material form in mounded landscape, in ritual, and in
stories about Atahualpa such as those today, and in the khuipu, ceramic styles, and other
objects and symbols mentioned in the written texts and also discussed in living memory
today. Not only were the Araucanians partially drawing on the past power and identity of
the Inka but also reacting to a past with the Spanish they knew and could relate to. By
practicing a form of archaism (sensu Patterson 2004) recent Andean history and
symbolism, the Araucanians established their social integrity and purpose and found a
source of additional identity and strength.
Fragmentation and reordering of society in a period of new social development fit the
Araucanian case. Several social units (i.e., lov, cahuin, rehue, ayllarehue, and
butanmapu) were transformed or created to reorder the political cartography and the
design of the social structure of the emerging Araucanian polity. The Araucanians
promoted polity-building through the incorporation of fragmented communities, the
elaboration of geopolitical technologies of governance of increasingly larger and mixed
residential populations, and the forging of a national culture and identity among
ethnically heterogenous groups from the coast, the central valley, and the Andes of southcentral Chile. The stock of hybrid symbols, cultural traditions, organizational principles,
historical mythologies, and ideological cultures sculpted by Araucanian leaders in the
sixteenth and seventeenth centuries was commonly supplied by the dominant
patrilineages within the region, especially those from the northern frontier areas of Purén,
Lumaco, Tucapel, Catiray, and Arauco, who may have received direct or indirect impetus
from the Inka state. Irrespective of the date and means of Inka influence and Araucanian
archaism, the Araucanians were a population that already had operated within certain
Andean principles of social and ideological organization, which thus were legible to and
congruent with Inka ways of political and religious administration and which presumably
made emulation of some Inka ways easier.
Regardless of the chronology, context, and nature of interaction between the Inka and the
southern Araucanians, opportunities must have existed for the latter (1) to emulate Inka
principles of organized warfare, administered public ceremony, recruitment and
incorporation of defeated and fragmented groups, construction of large-scale
monuments, and employment of religious symbols expressive of these activities, and (2)
to appropriate Inka identity through the consumption of goods, symbols, institutions, and
infrastructures. If this was the case, the purpose of appropriation probably was not just
symbolic but tactical and organizational. Further, the Inka way of doing things was not
just a symbolic expression but, I argue, a venue of power deliberately emulated by some
Araucanian leaders to provide a continuous flow and structured organization of goods,
ideas, and peoples to defend their territory. Because these imports emerged in the early
Spanish period under conditions of stigmatized warfare, I also hypothesize that emulation
was an attempt to define power via the accumulation of symbols of power already
recognized by the Spanish in their previous encounters with the Inka in other areas. That
is, the southern Araucanians did not develop an Inka identity; they developed an identity
with Inka accomplishment as a powerful state society that the Spanish knew. Araucanian
interest in Inka sacred spaces, imaginary lines, aesthetic pyramid or huaca designs,
symbols of power, and organizational knowledge may have been a matter of reinforcing
local models of utopic polity-formation, tactical and organizational political power, and
their materiality and performative display in public monuments and religious feasts by
unconsciously extending or keeping alive the official Inka state history. Even if the
Araucanians were more directly influenced by the Inka than we know, the way in which
the former used it to more effectively develop a polity and to establish a social vision or
target to strive toward was congruent and legible with their own ideologies, cosmologies,
and political circumstances, which already were Andean in form and practice.
On the basis of the currently known ethnohistorical, archeological, and ethnographic data,
I cannot say for certain how many of these elements were pre-Hispanic Araucanian or
Inka or just plain Andean or a hybridization of all three. Although the Araucanians were
building mounds (a trait probably derived from earlier Andean influence) before contact
with the Inka, I think that they learned from the latter that mounded landscapes and
multiple mound complexes (rehuekuel) and not just single burial kuel mounds could be
used to increase or decrease the differences between people, particular places, and
historical contingencies. Although I lack the precise evidence to prove it at this time, I
believe that given the prior mound-building experience of the Araucanians and of their
legible principles of organization, they quickly learned either directly or indirectly from
the Inka prior to or at the time of contact with the Spanish how these principles could
govern the ordering of an expanding political space. The character of the relationships
and emulations that is inferred from the data is the employment of similar tactics of
subjection of conquered, recruited and adopted rehue and lov peoples, a pronounced
emphasis on teaching people how to belong to a larger polity and to be productive
compatriots or citizens, the organization of collective labor, how to incorporate and
organize outlying or hinterland groups through public ceremony and topographic
pathways and visual lines of contact, and the value of standardization in organizing largescale productions. The Inka variant of this pattern is exemplified in the spatial layout of
the ayllus, ceques, and panacas of Cuzco and its surrounding region and the temporal
model constituted by the Inka astronomical system and ritual calendar (e.g., Zuidema
1977; Urton 1981). Thus, what made aspects of the Araucanian polity “Inka” were
principles of an expansive geopolitical ceremonial landscape organization. To have
achieved this emulation, I believe that the Araucanians must have had a social memory, a
collective notion about the Inka past. This emulation was grounded primarily in an
ideology of both the Inka and the Araucanian needing to expand and defend their
territories. What were conquered ethnic enclaves to the Inka were the fragmented lineage
groups adopted by the Araucanians, both indicative of the incorporation of groups but
through different means and for different purposes. But the principle was the same – that
of an ideology that defined rights to and obligations of membership and compatriotism
(or citizenship in the Inka case?) in a newly ordered society and that created a religious
and political landscape to insure this order.