It is now well known that the appearance of tools precedes that of man, and furthermore, that tools are not the exclusive attribute of the Hominidae. Recent research in animal behaviour shows that many species, not only our closest ‘cousins’ the chimpanzees and other great apes, are capable of selecting a branch or a stone to obtain food which is not directly accessible to them and that, in some cases, they may go elsewhere to look for a suitable instrument, or put it aside for later use. Memory, the choice of a suitable instrument, and the medium-term retention of information are the intellectual faculties necessary for the construction of a chaîne opératoire. It seems, however, that only some of the great apes are capable of making or reworking a tool (Beyries and Joulian 1990).

The chaîne opératoire, however, is not limited to the domain of tools: the building of a nest or a beaver lodge, and the hoarding of food supplies for hibernation, are other examples. The behaviour of certain animal species thus reveals systems of technology which have to be compared with those of humans if we wish to understand what distinguishes innate and learned capabilities. The study of the slow evolution of human intelligence over three million years is clearly one of the research directions which the cognitive sciences must explore in order to understand the dialectical relationship between intellectual activities, which we define as logically-based (analysis of information by induction and deduction), and those which are non-logical (coding of information based on perception and memory, selection, comparison, recoding, etc.).

Archaeological study of cognitive systems

‘Cognition’ refers to the representation of knowledge and to the processes operating on those representations; a ‘cognitive archaeology’ would investigate aspects of knowledge representation and information processing which are recoverable from the archaeological record. This chapter is part of a workshop on the scientific directions which such investigations might take.

The workshop within which these discussions were pursued was mindful, in particular, of the past quarter century of efforts to improve the scientific grounding of archaeological reconstructions of past lifeways. The classics of this literature are applications of useful theoretical constructs, models of social/cultural processes being investigated, and hypothesis-testing using the empirical data provided by archaeology and often ethnography as well.

Three topical emphases distinguish such archaeological work from ethnography: the study of long-term change; the study of lifeways now extinct or now existing only in unrepresentatively restricted situations; the study of relationships between artefacts and behaviour. The archaeological study of cognitive systems has similar rationales. Each of these emphases is addressed by papers in this volume, and each affects the theoretical and methodological issues whose resolution is crucial to the use of archaeological material in coming to grips with past ways of understanding.

The contribution of this paper to the discussion is based on two premises:

1. - Cognitive processes and representations are not directly accessible. Because cognition mediates between experiencing an environment and acting in it, we obtain nonintrospective access to cognitive systems through the correspondences between environment and behaviour. This is our only access to it. […]

Introduction

This paper focuses on the processes and conditions that promote the perpetuation of centralized, but nonbureaucratic, authority. Patterns of leadership variability in uncentralized tribal societies are first examined, using examples from South American ethnography. The growth of central leadership in such systems is seen to be closely linked to the internal forces of factional development as well as to the external dynamics of interfactional and inter-community relations. The paper then discusses how the kind of achieved authority some call “big-man” leadership – a short-term phenomenon tied to a particular individual's political career – could be transformed into a permanent, institutionalized chiefly office in the trajectory of long-term (inter-generational) social reproduction. It is proposed that such a transformation, to be successful, requires the expansion, regularization, and close articulation of both the internal and the external dimensions of central leadership. The general points of the discussion are then applied to archaeological data from Barinas, Venezuela.

Leadership dynamics in uncentralized societies

Anthropologists are showing increasing interest in patterns of social differentiation in uncentralized societies, those that lack formal institutions of central authority. Social status in such systems is based primarily on achievement during the course of an individual's lifetime, rather than on ascription at birth (Sillitoe 1978; Paynter and Cole 1980; Keesing 1983; Spencer 1987). And since the degree of one's success is strongly influenced by such factors as personal intelligence, charisma, motivation, energy, social relations, and luck, the result can be a highly variable set of individual statuses over the short term.

Warfare is often cited as an important factor in the evolution of complex societies, though usually it appears at the end of a long list of factors that contributed to the development of chiefdoms and states, with little or no attempt to examine its precise operation and its contribution to the internal politics of these societies. A notable exception is Robert Carneiro, who views warfare as a significant mechanism of political evolution, which under certain conditions of circumscription can give rise to the aggregation of autonomous villages under the permanent leadership of paramount chiefs, a critical step in political evolution (Carneiro 1981:38).

In weighing some of the factors that have been set forth to account for the development of chiefdoms and their centralized decision-making hierarchies, Carneiro attempts to distinguish between those factors that merely play a consolidating role in the emergence and legitimation of chiefdoms, and the source of the chief's political power in the first place. It is the chief's power which enables him to transcend the collective decision-making organization of uncentralized tribesmen and institutionalize a highly centralized decision-making organization with himself at the apex of a regional hierarchy of village chiefs under his control. If we are to explain the origin of chiefdoms, suggests Carneiro, we must look beyond some of the consequences of chiefly political power and seek the source of power that permits a chief to exercise centralized, hereditary leadership over his subjects (Carneiro 1981:57–8, 61, 63).

One way to seek the source of chiefly power is to assess the role that warfare can play in the development of centralized chiefly decision making.

Ethnicity can be defined as social identification based upon the presumption of shared history and common cultural inheritance. Such identities play a prominent role in political struggle in the modern world. Whether the object of struggle is securing resources in competition with other ethnic groups or resisting the dominance of an encroaching state, ethnic identity provides a powerful ideology for political mobilization. The ethnic groups engaged in these struggles often cut across class lines, containing both elites who provide group leadership and a mass of members drawn from lower classes. Thus, in the modern world, ethnicity is frequently bound up with factional competition and political change.

Did ethnicity play an important role in political struggle before the emergence of the modern world? Early approaches to ethnicity suggested that it did not. From the mid-1930s to the mid-1960s, ethnic groups were regarded as primordial human groups, arising from cultural isolation and persisting by habit and custom. Competition between ethnic groups was regarded as a recent phenomenon, created during the process of modernization as diverse tribal groups were brought together in overarching states. Some observers expected ethnic conflict within these “plural societies” to be a temporary phenomenon; conflict was expected to disappear in the course of modernization as national institutions matured (e.g., Apter 1967). Others, more pessimistic, pointed to forces that would perpetuate ethnic identity and conflict: either the deep-seated, enduring character of ethnic loyalties (Geertz 1963) or the determination of colonial and neocolonial elites to maintain ethnic stratification systems (Furnivall 1939).

The interrelationship between ethnic units and a central political authority is known historically to have been crucial to the operation of complex societies. In the process of this interaction central authorities, particularly ruling elites, have created new ethnic groups, have altered the attributes which define ethnic identity, and have restructured relationships between ethnic groups (Enloe 1980:17ff.). Political authorities have two fundamental goals for the survival of their centralized power: (1) the economic exploitation of populations and resources, and (2) the protection of the integrity of the state frontiers. In achieving both these goals ethnic diversity can either facilitate or hinder elite action.

Centralized authorities can assure maximal access to populations and resources when decision making flows from the top downward, according to principles established by dominant elites. Ethnic diversity often disrupts this flow, by interposing local or regional leaders, who acquire power not through their allegiance to central hierarchies, but through positions of ethnic status. Decision making may be undertaken to reflect the needs of local populations or local elites at the expense of the state. On the other hand, under conditions of rapid territorial expansion, when large populations and/or resources are being incorporated into a single political unit, the existing lines of authority, legitimacy, and social cohesion present in ethnically distinct populations may provide central authorities with an infrastructure of political and economic networks that can be tapped to the benefit of the state. In a similar manner, the maintenance of the state's territorial integrity demands populations willing to defend that territory, and not themselves act to foster rebellion against central authority.

Introduction

Discussion of factional politics often focuses on its divisive and transient nature. Factions are said to appear for the purpose of contesting particular issues (Lewellen 1983:109) and to disintegrate when these issues are resolved. Relative calm then ensues until the next contest when divisive factions will form again.

But factions can produce both conflict and cooperation. A faction is, after all, an alliance forged by individuals to improve their ability to compete (Brumfiel, Chapter 1). Furthermore, factions are not necessarily transient entities; they may occur as stable associations capable of addressing a range of issues. Such were the small, pre-Columbian states of the Terminal Classic through the Late Postclassic in the Mixteca Alta.

Within the Mixteca Alta at the time of conquest, there were many largely autonomous Mixtec “kingdoms” (Dahlgren 1954; Spores 1967; Caso 1977–9; Pohl in press). Some of these polities dominated and influenced each other; for example, powerful Tilantongo dominated the decision making of several other communities. In some ways, these towns were like vassal states, but in other ways they remained autonomous. They had their own hereditary rulers, and they contracted separate alliances (Pohl 1991, in press).

Paradoxically, Tilantongo, the most powerful state in the Mixteca at the time of the Spanish conquest, was a small, architecturally unimpressive site (Caso 1938). How was so much power concentrated in a place which had such a small population and so little substantial public architecture? Tilantongo exercised its power indirectly, through the construction of a regional alliance system that ordered social relations throughout the Mixteca Alta.

This study examines archaeological and historical information on segmentation at the community level in the prehispanic Valley of Oaxaca. Some communities had internal, spatial subdivisions, though it is usually not possible with the present information to specify the basis on which these communities were subdivided. By and large, however, Valley of Oaxaca communities were politically centralized rather than segmental.

Class, stratification, or status hierarchy distinctions pervaded Oaxacan and Mesoamerican societies generally. Elsewhere our settlement pattern project has written about problems in the archaeological identification of these class distinctions (Kowalewski, Feinman, and Finsten in press). In reality hierarchical distinctions between levels are intertwined with same-level distinctions, such as factions; nevertheless, I would like to treat just the same-level groupings in this chapter.

The most significant same-level distinctions in Valley of Oaxaca society were not within communities; nor did kinship or ethnicity generate the major factions of society. Instead, on the whole, inter-community divisions were the major segments whose binding or separation was crucial to the dynamics of society. These inter-community fault lines contrast with the segmentary lineages proposed for the Maya area (Wallace and Carmack 1977, Fox 1987). In this respect Valley of Oaxaca society was more similar to that of Central Mexico than to Maya society. Yet the Valley of Oaxaca lacked the apparent emphasis on ethnic constituents seen in Postclassic Central Mexico.

The remainder of this chapter provides support for the propositions I have just made. The next five sections describe the several lines of evidence bearing on community subdivisions generally in the Valley of Oaxaca, and especially subdivisions at the two sites, San José Mogote and Monte Albán, where subdivisions are most obvious.

We recognize Lowland Maya culture because the Maya were constantly competing with one another. The Lowlands were “the hot center of a competitive system where small differences matter a lot” (Douglas and Isherwood 1979:145). The archaeological and historical record demonstrates that conflict repeatedly built up among the Maya and was a powerful factor in cultural change. We see recurring cycles of conflict but we also recognize that structural change occurred as those cycles played out.

Our model for the development of conflict begins with competition among parties who are closely tied, within a lineage, between lineages within a polity, or between adjacent polities. Conflict spreads as combatants reach out in an attempt to rally allies to their cause and thereby increase the number of actors with an interest in the outcome of the struggle. The resultant political instability may spur some to assert their independence, and others may seize the opportunity to fill a power vacuum.

To assess our model we first look at the Late Postclassic and early historic Maya and identify the “core attributes of Maya society” (Farriss 1984). Prehistorians have been wary of using these data, but they represent our best information on Maya culture. Historically we see sources of conflict among elites in competition over political office and the means of supporting positions of power. Commoners have their own conflicts over land and inheritance. They appeal to elite patrons for conflict resolution, and elites extract goods and labor in exchange for their services, which they use to promote themselves through warfare and ritual display.

A number of years ago I presented an argument, based on ethnohistorical materials and cross-cultural ethnographic comparisons, concerning the general “type” of chiefdom organization evidenced by the several dozen polities of the Panamanian isthmus at the time of European contact. I concluded that these polities were characterized by a high level of status competition and rivalry among high-ranking men of influence, who sought to bolster or legitimate whatever inherited claims to high office they held by high-visibility public activities that would evidence their personal capabilities as dynamic men of action (Helms 1979:3, 22–3).

Panamanian society was basically divided between ordinary people and elite persons of higher rank with named statuses. Among the elite, those termed quevís held the highest offices – we can consider them to be high chiefs. Those termed sacos are described as principal personages who had vassals but were inferior in rank to quevís; they could be brothers of quevís or lords subordinated to quevís by defeat in warfare. The lowest level of elite status was held by honored warriors of commoner status who achieved a rank, called cabra, by virtue of outstanding bravery in battle (Oviedo in Helms 1979:12, 13). Oviedo also notes a territorial referent for the various grades of elites in which the provinces, rivers, valleys, and places where members of the elite lived were given the names of the particular quevís, sacos and cabras concerned. This practice may indicate that cabras and sacos held overlapping stewardship over the various territorial villages and districts that, in sum, composed the total domain or province of a queví (p. 13).

This volume calls attention to the importance of factional competition as a force of social transformation. It argues that factional competition is implicated in developments as diverse as the spread of ceramic technology and maize agriculture, the origins of permanently instituted leadership offices, the expansion and collapse of states, and the European domination of indigenous New World peoples. Although this volume focuses upon the New World, its perspective is relevant to the social histories of other areas of the world as well, because all non-egalitarian societies, both ancient and modern, are shaped by the dynamics of factional competition. Bringing an agent-centered perspective to the study of political development, this volume also contributes to a general understanding of social stability and change. An agent-centered perspective maximizes the amount of data drawn into the analysis and thus permits the most detailed and complete account of specific cases of political continuity and transformation.

Our studies of factional competition both complement and critique the two prevailing approaches to prehistoric social change: cultural ecology and Marxism. Cultural ecology focuses upon the dynamic interactions of human populations and their local environments. As a complement to this, the studies in this volume examine the internal dynamics of local populations, dynamics that help to shape the strategy of resource exploitation. Marxist theory focuses upon the dynamics of class struggle: a model postulating solidarity within classes and struggle between them. As a complement to class struggle, the essays in this volume emphasize the importance of conflicts within classes and alliances between them.

Investigators of prehistory generally concur that political competition has often been critical to the development of social complexity. Among the key forms of political contention are hierarchical, peer, polity, expansionist, and factional competition. These are politically joined processes whose significance varies (1) as the complexity and reach of the sociopolitical unit is transformed, (2) as the interaction emphasizes internally or externally directed conflict, and (3) as the competition is structured vertically (e.g., between classes) or horizontally (e.g., between polities). This paper focuses attention on factionalism in the Upper Mantaro Valley, Peru, during the late pre-Inka, Inka, and early colonial periods. These successive periods provide an excellent opportunity for examining how political activity was transformed as the context of interaction shifted rapidly from autonomous, to imperial, to colonial rule (Fig. 15.1).

Before discussing the case studies, I would like to underscore four main points concerning the role of factional competition in political development. First, although they lie outside sanctioned structures of sociopolitical interaction, factions pervade political activity from the simplest to the most complex societies. Second, because factionalism often cross-cuts more formal sociopolitical groups, it provides a means by which individuals or groups restructure ties to obtain power and resources (Salisbury and Silverman 1977). The groups that are formed are often volatile, ephemeral, and based on mutual short-term goals, but the outcome of the competition may be a reformation of more formal kinds of political interaction or, less radically, a shift in leadership. Third, despite the scant archaeological interest in factionalism in empirical studies, numerous theories contain this kind of competition as a key element of political change.

This chapter aims to situate the present volume's relationship to historical materialism. These contributions argue that factional competition plays a crucial role in the social transformation of precolumbian America. Factions are hierarchical units, which include elites and masses engaged in a struggle over resources. This factionalism approach is a complement to two prevailing approaches to understanding social change in prehistory, Marxism and ecological functionalism. I will not deal here with the latter. But the claim that the factions approach contributes to Marxian theory raises an important problem. Many Marxisms exist. To which Marxism does this approach contribute? Much confusion and debate still exists about the nature of historical materialism, about the relationship between “base” and “superstructure,” and particularly about the role of active human intervention in Marx's theory of history. Determinist and idealist interpretations of Marx's historical materialism do not allow much space for the sophisticated nuances of the factionalism approach. This essay argues that the factional conflict approach is consonant with an interpretation of historical materialism which centers on the cumulative development of the productive forces without neglecting political struggles. In other words, the factional conflict approach suggests that historical materialism need not conceive of analyses based upon economic structure and human agency as mutually exclusive modes of explanation.

This essay is divided into three parts. The first examines determinist and idealist versions of historical materialism. The second identifies an alternative, what could be called an “activist materialism,” an historical materialism which accepts the centrality of the cumulative development of the productive forces without neglecting the role of superstructural elements, active political intervention by real individual and collective social actors.