Showing posts with label Caonabo. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Caonabo. Show all posts

Sunday, January 4, 2026

The Cacicazgo of Maguana

The island on the Axis Mundi with San Juan de la Maguana as the center of the world (in ValméAtabey, Yucayequey, Caney : 6000 ans d'amenagement territorial prehispanique sur l'ile d'Ayiti / Haiti/ Republique Dominicaine).

Exploring the history of the cacicazgo of Maguana is exceedingly difficult. Since we only know of Caonabo, its leader at the time of Columbus's arrival in Hispaniola, speculation and the use of the meager details of his life are the best clues. In addition, the topography of the island, Maguana's relations with other cacicazgos and the traditions of Indian misterios which have survived in the region of San Juan de la Maguana are the other types of evidence one must consult. Besides these, the brief references in the Spanish chronicles and some of the encomienda system's records are most of what one can work with. We shall begin with the chronicles and Columbus, then shift to other types of sources to reconstruct a plausible theory for Maguana. Then, with a review of 20th century scholarship and more contemporary studies, we shall endeavor to understand the features of the Maguana chiefdom. It will be shown that Caonabo's political career and function as a stranger king made him well-poised to understand the threat posed by the Spanish to the balance of power. In truth, as a stranger who was able to achieve great political power and status, Caonabo understood better than anyone else why the Spanish were such a threat.

Non-Spanish Early Sources

First, the non-Spanish chronicles and histories. Moreau de Saint-Mery wrote that Maguana was bordered to its south by the sea, on its north by the mountain chains, on its east by the Jayna (Haina) River, and on its west by the mountains of Bahoruco.[1] For Charlevoix, the Jesuit historian, Maguana included the Cibao and its leader, Caonabo, was the most powerful monarch on the island. Supposedly, Maguana was able to, with the aid of its allies no doubt, muster 100,000 warriors led by Manicatex, a brother of Caonabo.[2] Cuneo, a much earlier source, attributed the total forces Caonabo capable of mustering to be 50,000, so one presumes Manicatoex was receiving reinforcements from a broader alliance.[3] Nau, the 19th century Haitian historian of the island's indigenous peoples, repeated the narrative of Caonabo's Carib origin. One of Maguana's provinces included Niti, too.[4] Unsurprisingly, Nau likely drew on the same sources as the earlier Francophone chronicles and texts. 

An anonymous Frenchman, who presumably drew on oral tradition, also wrote about Caonabo. In his case, the treasure of Caonabo was thrown in the river by a wife after she heard the god of the Spanish was gold. This lost treasure apparently consisted of 300 plaques of gold, 52 charges of gold, a throne (presumably a duho) and a gold table. Locals even reported that the treasure of Caonabo was still somewhere in this river.[5] However, the region around San Juan de la Maguana was perceived by some non-Spanish writers as a part of the island in which people with mixed-race Indian ancestry could be found.[6] So even into the 17th century, the area around San Juan de la Maguana had a partly recognizable indigenous heritage. Indeed, even Thomas Madiou reproduced a discourse by a commandant of San Juan de la Maguana from the 1820s which reiterated the notion of indigenous ancestry.[7] Last, but certainly not least, Robert Schomburgk visited the site of the Corral de los Indios, a ceremonial center that is often said to be the largest plaza in the Caribbean. Although Schomburgk referred to it as a "Cercado de los Indios," it is obvious he was referring to the same Corral.[8] Its tremendous size and the use of a rock with evidence for eyes and a mouth near the center of the plaza must have held some kind of cosmological or ritual significance. Despite their limitations, these pre-20th century French and English sources do give a sense in which indigenous traditions may have survived in the region of San Juan de la Maguana. Naturally, this could very well be part of the legacy of Maguana and provide possible clues to the region. Thus, the association of water with indigenous spirits in the region today could very well be an example of indigenous retentions.[9]

Spanish-Language Early Sources

Moving on to Spanish sources, the language of all the primary sources, scholars have additional details and more questions emerge. First, Columbus and others who visited Hispaniola in the 1490s provide the earliest written sources to mention Caonabo or areas allegedly part of his domains. For example, Columbus, who met Caonabo, referred to him as "a man advanced in years and of great knowledge and very keen understanding.”[10] This suggests that Caonabo was perhaps middle-aged or older by this time. He was not young or politically inexperienced, as Guacanagari of Marien may have been. In fact, Columbus's journal on the First Voyage likely alludes to parts of Caonabo's territory when referring to places east of Marien: Guarionex, Macorix, Mayonic, Fuma, Cibao, and Coroay.[11] It is highly likely that the Cibao was part of Caonabo's territory, and Mayonic could have been Columbus's garbled rendering of Maguana. In his other writings, Columbus similarly described interactions with Caonabo and the land of Maguana. For instance, he knew of "Cahonaboa" as "el cual posee tierra en que ay mucho oro.”[12] 

Elsewhere, in a memorial from 1494, Columbus referred to Caonabo as "que es ombre, según la relación de todos, muy malo e muy más atrevido.”[13] Clearly written during the period of conflict with the powerful native ruler, Columbus acknowledged the bold daring of Caonabo. This is why Columbus urged the sending of European gifts to Caonabo to help lower his guard. The giving of gifts was quickly understood by Columbus to be important in establishing close ties with the indigenous elite of the island. But on Maguana specifically, Columbus's writings report "y este Cahonabo dizen que en la tierra donde vive ay mucho oro mas es tierra muy montañosa."[14] Upon consideration of Caonabo's name, translated as "Lord of the Golden House" by Martyr d'Anghiera, the cacique's territory must have included gold-producing parts of the island. When he visited Maguana itself in 1495, Columbus noted the land's proximity to the sierras and its acequias or irrigation ditches, "como en Granada," to exploit the plentiful sources of water.[15] This reference to the use of irrigation canals or ditches is especially significant. Since the use of the same method of irrigation was used in Xaragua, whose leader at the time was a brother-in-law of Caonabo, one is tempted to consider a technological transfer from Xaragua to Maguana. Alternatively, both regions may have begun using irrigation systems much earlier. Regardless of the origin of this practice, it would have greatly increased the agricultural potential and provided higher population densities. This could explain the large number of houses in Maguana's central settlement, which Lynne Guitar claimed exceeded 1000.[16] 

In addition to Columbus, a plethora of other Spanish sources and chroniclers of the first half of the 16th century mentioned Caonabo and Maguana. For instance, Martyr d'Anghiera's De Orbe Novo gave a translation of Caonabo's name. Furthermore, based on Morales's map of Hispaniola and other sources, d'Anghiera located Maguana in Bainoa. Maguana itself was a valley through which the Bahaun River flowed. Caonabo's siege of Alonso de Ojeda in the Fort of Saint Thomas was also mentioned, including the bewildering tale of Caonabo's capture and imprisonment by Ojeda. Like Columbus, d'Anghiera also stressed that Caonabo ruled "Cipangu" (a misunderstanding on the part of Columbus for the Cibao, mistakenly identifying it with Japan). But with a much smaller estimate of warriors, Caonabo's brother was only able to gather 5000 men but they were defeated by the Spanish (with the brother's capture, too).[17] Ferdinand Columbus, the son of the Admiral, also referred to Caonabo in his biography of his father. In this case, it was to the enmity between Caonabo and Guacanagari as the former had stolen the wife of the other.[18] Although Columbus's son offered a different narrative of Caonabo's capture, the general picture is consistent with the other sources on Caonabo's destruction of La Navidad and conflict with the Spanish. Las Casas, on the other hand, provided a richer description of Maguana. For this author, Maguana was located near the Cibao and consisted of valleys, rivers, plains, and sierras. It was fertile, enjoyed a moderate temperature, and the Yaqui river passed through its territory. Maguana's name referred to the fact that it was a smaller vega than Maguá, the cacicazgo held by the family of Guarionex.[19] Las Casas even gives some dimensions for Maguana, cited by Sued-Badillo as being 30 leagues long and 25 leagues wide.[20] 

The other 16th century sources include Oviedo's Historia general y natural de las Indias and the records associated with the 1514 Repartimiento. Oviedo, who came to the island long after the demise of Caonabo, believed the cacique was of Carib origin. Moreover, he also saw the Ciguayos as subjects of Caonabo.[21] This seems unlikely if the Ciguayos were based in Samaná, closer to the territory of Guarionex. The 16th century records on the encomiendas of San Juan de la Maguana and other towns in c. 1514 also allude to some details on Maguana. Of the 1,435 Indians assigned to encomenderos there, some were the western part of the island. For example, a cacique named Baltasar de Higuamuco likely came from the territory Las Casas described as east of Guahaba. Others who likely came from the cacicazgo of Maguana in precolonial times were assigned to encomenderos in other towns. Thus, Hernando del Maguanabo, perhaps his name referring to "House of Maguana," was assigned to Diego de Ocampo in Bonao.[22] Although his following only consisted of 45 people, his name is highly suggestive of someone who may have hailed from the precolonial Maguana elite. Other familiar names among the indigenous leadership include Enrique, who later led a long-lasting revolt against Spanish authority from the Bahoruco Mountains. As the nephew of Anacaona, the wife of Caonabo, his presence in the Bahoruco area and San Juan de la Maguana must have held some appeal to indigenous people who remembered Caonabo for his fierce resistance to the Spanish.

Another cacique who may have been tied to Maguana was Manicaotex, assigned to an encomendero in  La Concepción with 79 indigenous people in his community.[23] There is no evidence this is the same person as the brother of Caonabo with the same name, but a connection is possible. In fact, the name is reminiscent of the Taino word manicato, perhaps signifying a bold leader. Another cacique who may have been originally from the area of San Juan de la Maguana (or Azua, likely part of the larger cacicazgo of Maguana) was Alonso de Ojeda. Though assigned to an encomendero in La Buenaventura, the Hieronymite Interrogatory of 1517 specifically named him as one of the caciques who conspired to flee and resist Spanish attempts at forced relocations.[24] With 135 indigenous people under his leadership, he may have been one of the more important caciques in the Maguana or Azua area.[25] 

Lingering Questions and Modern Sources

After reviewing the French and Spanish (and one English article) sources on Maguana before the 20th century, there are many questions which remain. Was Maguana's dimensions as given by Las Casas accurate? Was Caonabo a Lucayo or Carib? To what extent were the people in the Bahoruco and areas near the modern Haitian border part of his domains? And was his marriage with Anacaona a later development in his life after he consolidated his power at the head of Maguana? Undoubtedly, the marriage alliance with Anacaona strengthened his political position among the matunheri caciques of the island. One wonders if Caonabo's political rise, despite his foreign origins, was tied to a guatiao or fictive kinship link with the previous lineage of Maguana.  Or, was Caonabo a Lucayo or "Carib" related to the ruling dynasty of Maguana? The question of Caonabo's 3 or 4 brothers and the apparent succession of the throne to a brother might be an indication of maternal lineage rooted in the region. Perhaps Caonabo's branch was able to seize power through the effective military leadership of Caonabo. Furthermore, one wonders if the Uxmatex, a cacique and captain of Caonabo, was another one of his brothers.

Moving into the 20th century, several secondary sources shed further light on Maguana with the aid of ethnohistory and newer approaches to the archive. The 20th century Dominican historian, Casimiro Moya, speculated that the territory of Maguana encompassed the Cibao, Maniey, Azua and Banique.[26] Sven Loven, author of a masterpiece on the indigenous Caribbean, seemed to prefer Caonabo as a Lucayo whose success in wars preceded his ascent to the position of cacique of Maguana. He also believed that the Corral de los Indios was a sanctuary site. The crown of Caonabo was also described as having wings and gold-encrusted eyes.[27] Samuel Wilson, based on Las Casas, recounted how Caonabo was captured and the brass bell of La Isabela that could talk.[28] Intriguingly, the fact that it took 18 months before Behechio of Xaragua tried to annex parts of Maguana after the fall of Caonabo was also important, perhaps showing how the defeat of Caonabo and his brother destroyed the paramount chiefdom's stability.[29] E.W. Stone likewise proposes the sacred spaces held by Maguana included El Cacique de Charco de los Indios, Río Chacuey, Cueva Pomier, and Pico Duarte would have enhanced the status of Caonabo.[30] 

Besides these 20th century sources, several additional scholars have analyzed aspects of Caonabo's life or the Maguana cacicazgo. Valmé, drawing on a perhaps erroneous method, estimated the Corral de los Indios site's batey, of 37,994 square meters, could have held 11,400 people. Moreover, Maguana contained more than 45 drainage basins, another sign of the area's agricultural potential and attraction to people.[31] Bernardo Vega, who drew heavily upon the map of Morales and other sources, problematically asserted a Ciguayo origin for Caonabo but failed to provide evidence.[32]  Cassá, however, theorized that Caonabo wanted to use Christian cemí power in his war against the Spanish, which could be why Caonabo was willing to accept European gifts.[33] Deagan, in her study of En Bas Saline, the probable site of Guacanagari's capital, has also cited sources on Columbus enslaving 600 of Caonabo's subjects in 1494/5.[34] 

Significantly, Jean Fouchard, the Haitian historian, also proposed that a Haitian "Chant de guerre de Caonabo" from the 19th century is an authentic specimen of indigenous literature. First published in La Selve's study of Haitian literature, the song is full of Kalinago words like boutou. There's also a proposal that Caonabo was from Guadeloupe, which is interesting since the indigenes of Guadeloupe were in contact with Puerto Rico.[35] It is not implausible for an adventuresome Kalinago from Guadeloupe or the Lesser Antilles to have reached Hispaniola, too. But the chant's fusion of mostly Kalinago words with a few examples of Taino words seems more typical of a 19th century Haitian literary style, which sometimes conflated Kalinago and Taino cultures. Thus, the song is full of words like Kouroumon and Bayakou. The song also refers to Guacanagari as a traitor, which does match how chroniclers described the animosity between Guacanagari and other caciques of Hispaniola.[36] Since the song's origins are unclear and it is unlikely to be an authentic war song from 1492 or 1493, it is perhaps better seen as an example of how 19th century Haitian authors imagined the areyto. Nonetheless, the claim of an origin in Guadeloupe for Caonabo is not outside the realm of plausibility and has at least some basis in the Spanish chronicles.

The most important sources on Caonabo, however, are the works of Keegan and Ostapkowicz. The former, author of a study on Caonabo as a stranger king, draws extensively on his own archaeological research in the Lucayan islands. Keegan has also tied the notion of Caonabo as "Carib" to a Taino mythical geography. Moreover, the references in the sources to Caonabo and his 3 brothers are reminiscent of Deminan and his 3 brothers in Taino myth).[37] If Caonabo was a wise, stranger figure whose life could parallel important figures in Taino mythology, this model may elucidate how he was able to ascend to the status of most powerful cacique on the island. Keegan even suggests that he could have been the guardian of the mythical cave of origin, Cacibajagua, if it was included in his domains.[38] Of course, we have argued against the location of Cacibajagua in the domains of Caonabo,[39] but the central location of Guacanagari and the gigantic plaza at El Corral de los Indios likely has cosmological significance that went beyond the confines of Maguana. In terms of archaeology, Keegan has identified a possible site for an important village Caonabo may have come from: the MC-6 settlement established no earlier than 1300.[40] If Caonabo was indeed a Lucayan, as indicated by Las Casas, he could have come from this important, cosmologically charged site that was linked to Hispaniola. Indeed, Maguana may have represented the center of the island and the center of the world from the perspective of the indigenous peoples, a notion also shared by Valmé.

Ostapkowicz, on the other hand, brings a keen attention to detail and textual sources with a study of Taino material culture. In her thesis, a study of the Taino duho, Columbus is cited for Caonabo's explanation that every principal cacique of the island believed that after death, people go to a valley where they see their ancestors, eat, access their wives, and more. Caonabo explained that every cacique believed the valley of the afterlife was located somewhere in their own territory, perhaps implying that Coabay was not located in a single place.[41] In her recent study of cloth and fibrous materials, Ostapkowicz delves into an analysis of various items received in tribute from Caonabo's community in 1495. A combination of belts, masks with gold parts, naguas, hammocks, cotton, and sheets of gold were collected from Caonabo's Indians.[42] The presence of much material using cloth, though not as much as the cloth and textiles found in Anacaona's storehouse, indicates the degree to which cotton and textiles were part of the wealth of a cacique. As one of the most powerful caciques, and one whose name referred to gold, it is striking how so much of the tribute collected from Caonabo's subjects consisted of cloth. While gold was used with the masks and other objects given to the Spanish, one can detect a similar sense of value and wealth in Caonabo's Maguana as that of Xaragua. Given the close ties between Xaragua and Maguana, as well as the use of irrigation canals in both chiefdoms, perhaps cotton was one of the additional sources of wealth for Maguana. Alternatively, cotton may have been given in gift exchanges between Xaragua and Maguana, with the latter possibly serving as a source of gold. 

Conclusion

In summation, the mystery of Caonabo remains. For about 500 years, writers have disagreed on his origin. Keegan's theory of a possible origin in Middle Caicos is intriguing, but of course only a speculation. The "Carib" origin theory could still be true, but academics should explore the links between Hispaniola and the Lesser Antilles. For instance, the finding of Hispaniola-styled duhos at sites in the Lesser Antilles may be evidence of elite exchange or trade, perhaps pointing to a possible Kalinago origin of Caonabo through one of these networks. Moreover, questions remain on the domain of Maguana and how the chiefdom may have looked before 1492. In terms of the chiefdom's characteristics, the existence of irrigation canals or ditches as well as control of gold-producing areas likely made Maguana a populous center of attraction for much of Hispaniola. The alliance with Xaragua, another densely populated region with ample cotton production, likely included military dimensions that may have made Caonabo one of, if not the most, powerful caciques in Hispaniola. Finally, Caonabo's foreign origins and deft navigation of the political landscape of the island made him the best positioned to understand the threat posed by the Spanish.

 



[1]  M.L.E. Moreau de Saint-Méry, A topographical and political description of the Spanish part of Saint-Domingo: containing, general observations on the climate, population, and productions; on the character and manners of the inhabitants; with an account of the several branches of the government, Volume 1, 34.

[2] Pierre-François-Xavier de Charlevoix, Histoire de l'Isle espagnole ou de S. Domingue, Vol. 1, 81-82, 172.

[3] Carl Ortwin Sauer, The Early Spanish Main, 84.

[4] Émile Nau, Histoire des caciques d'Haïti, 116-117.

[6]  Alexander O. Exquemelin, The Buccaneers of America, 36.

[7] Thomas Madiou, Histoire d’Haiti, Tome VI, 356.

[8] Robert Schomburgk, “Ethnological Researches in Santo Domingo,” 91-92.

[9] Martha Ellen Davis, La otra ciencia: el vodu dominicano el vodú dominicano como religión y medicina populares, 138.

[10] Christopher Columbus in Ramón Pané, An Account of the Antiquities of the Indians, 45.

[11] Christopher Columbus, The Journal of Christopher Columbus (During His First Voyage), 141.

[12] Cristóbal Colón, Textos y documentos completos: Relaciones de viajes, cartas y memoriales, 243.

[13] Ibid., 256.

[14] Ibid., 277.

[15] Ibid., 324.

[16] Lynne Guitar, Cultural Genesis: Relationships among Indians, Africans, and Spaniards in rural. Hispaniola, first half of the sixteenth century, 121.

[17] Peter Martyr d’Anghiera, De Orbe Novo.

[19]  Bartolomé de Las Casas, Apologética historia sumaria.

[20] Jalil Sued-Badillo, Caribe taíno: Ensayos históricos sobre el siglo XVI, 19.

[23] Ibid., 584.

[24] Behique Dunama, “Interrogatorio de los Jeronimos.”

[25] Luis Arranz Márquez, Repartimientos y encomiendas en la Isla Española (El repartimiento de Alburquerque de 1514), 567.

[28] Samuel Wilson, Hispaniola: Caribbean Chiefdoms in the Age of Columbus, 86.

[29] Ibid., 91.

[30] E.W. Stone, “The Conquest of Española as a “Structure of Conjuncture,”’ 371.

[31] Gilbert R. Valmé, Atabey, Yucayequey, Caney : 6000 ans d'amenagement territorial prehispanique sur l'ile d'Ayiti / Haiti/ Republique Dominicaine, 15, 181.

[32] Bernardo Vega, Los Cacicazgos de la Hispaniola, 57.

[33] Roberto Cassá, Los Tainos de la Española, 222.

[34] Kathleen Deagan, En Bas Saline: A Taíno Town Before and After Columbus, 34.

[35] Jean Fouchard, Langue et littérature des aborigènes d'Ayti, 91.

[36] Ibid., 92.

[37] William F. Keegan, Taíno Indian Myth and Practice: The Arrival of the Stranger King, 35, 45.

[38] Ibid., 46-47.

[39] Behique Dunama, “Caonao (Cahonao).”

[40] William F. Keegan, Taíno Indian Myth and Practice: The Arrival of the Stranger King, 182.

[41] Joanna Ostapkowicz, Taino wooden sculpture: rulership and the visual arts in the 12–16th century Caribbean, 518.

Sunday, December 28, 2025

Caonabo's Hidden Treasure

 Although hardly reliable, the anonymous author of Observations météorologiques et physiques sur St.-Domingue. Description du Rio-del-Oro, ou Rivière d'Or de Christophe Colomb. Découverte des mines d'or par cet amiral. Renseignemens sur les trésors du cacique Caonabo. Origine des peuples d'Amérique. Description de leur berceau. Ages des deux mondes. Numéro 6 reported traditions of Caonabo's hidden treasure. According to his informants, Caonabo's treasure was thrown into a river by his wife (Anacaona?) since she heard gold was the god of the Spanish. This tale seems similar to what was later reported of Hatuey's actions in Cuba, so the historical accuracy of this is up for debate. Certainly in the 1495 tribute lists, golden objects from Caonabo or his community were rendered to the Spanish. But tradition in the 18th century had it that Caonabo's hidden treasure consisted of 300 plaques of gold, a throne (probably a duho), a golden table (table with gold-encrusted parts?) and 52 charges of gold bars. As a paramount cacique believed to control some of the gold-producing parts of the island, this is actually somewhat plausible. Indeed, locals believed the treasure was still somewhere at the bottom of the river...

Saturday, January 11, 2025

La fille du Kacik

In spite of its flaws, Henri Chauvet's La fille du Kacik is an interesting work of drama for the context in which it was produced. Published in 1894, ten years before the Centennial of Haitian independence, the play was undoubtedly connecting Caonabo's resistance to Spanish oppression and invasion with the origins of Haiti as an independent state. Needless to say, Chauvet took many liberties with history to portray Caonabo as a proto-nationalist leader eager to build an alliance with caciques across the island to defeat the Spaniards. The play, as one might expect, also focuses on his defeat of the whites left at Navidad by Columbus and the routing of a group led by Arana sent to avenge the men killed by Caonabo. Anacaona, who is mentioned once in a line by Mamona, the daughter of Caonabo, appears to either not be married yet to Caonabo or is marginal to the story. Xaragua, however, is mentioned briefly, and Bohechio as in agreement with Caonabo's plan to drive out the whites left in Marien. 

Much of the plot is centered on the tragic romance of Rodrigo, a "good" white who is opposed to the avarice and abuses of his fellow Spaniards eager to find gold and take advantage of indigenous women. Mamona, the beloved daughter of Caonabo, is rescued by Rodrigo from a caiman one day whilst resting near the Artibonite River. Because Rodrigo saved Mamona's life (who also happens to be named after Atabey, the mother of Yucahu), he is spared by Caonabo when Macao, a guide, leads the reconnaissance mission of the Spaniards straight into the domains of Caonabo. The powerful cacique, driven by a hatred for the Spaniards after their numerous depredations across the island for gold and women, has the Spaniards on the reconnaissance mission executed while Rodrigo, spared because of Mamona's love, is torn by his sense of honor and his feelings for Mamona. In a twist that is promising and liberatory, Caonabo later goes on to defeat the forces led by Arana to avenge the death of the Spaniards executed by the powerful cacique. In one moving scene, Caonabo similarly alludes to the barbarism of the Spaniards, despite the latter referring to the Indians as barbarians instead of civilized. Anyway, as one might expect, the romance of Mamona and Rodrigo is a tragic one, ending in the former's death and the suicide of the former. Nonetheless, Caonabo's pledge to liberate and defend Haiti, frequently alluding to the Aya aya bombe chant (which is actually of African origin) and even the Tree of Liberty, expresses Chauvet's desire to insert Caonabo into the pantheon of national heroes and founders. Guacanagaric, on the other hand, is more akin to a traitor and perhaps comparable to Rigaud?

Despite its anti-colonial themes, however, Chauvet's play surprisingly refuses to pass judgment on Columbus. Instead of the Admiral bearing any blame, it is really the rapacious appetite of the Spaniards in his service who are responsible for the abuses and exploitation of the island's indigenous people. Chauvet, through Rodrigo, prefers to portray Columbus as a heroic figure whose accomplishments represented an advance in science and human knowledge. Obviously, this version of events is not matched by the historical record, but it falls into line with the depiction of Columbus in Nau's history of Haiti's indigenous past. Another intriguing feature in the play is Chauvet's heavy reliance on Kalinago language and culture for what is ostensibly "Taino" Haiti. Instead of referring to clubs by their Taino name, macana, Chauvet uses boutou. He also uses Kalinago names for a variety of things, like karbet, Nonum, Louquo, Kouroumon, and Mabouya. Although the Taino and Kalinago cultures were definitely in contact in the precolonial Caribbean, the ubiquity of references and names derived from cultures non-indigenous to Hispaniola is a bit jarring. However, it does reflect 19th century Haitian knowledge of the island's indigenous peoples, which sometimes carelessly applied data from the Lesser Antilles to Hispaniola. Likewise, one wonders if, like Nau, Chauvet also believed the false idea that the sambas of 19th century Haiti were somehow derived from or influenced by the Taino singer-poets and their areytos, even though the word points more to Africa. 

Thursday, May 2, 2024

Caonabo Tribute


Another beautiful music tribute to our caciques. This one, by Yoyito Cabrera, features some amazing percussion and a catchy chorus. 

Wednesday, August 2, 2023

Caonabo & Anacaona


Never realized Fernandito Villalona also had a song in honor of Caonabo. Pleasant enough listening and stresses the love of Anacaona and Caonabo.

Thursday, June 29, 2023

Our Cacique, Caonabo

Although the author admits to the speculative nature of some of his conclusions, Taino Indian Myth and Practice: The Arrival of the Stranger King, Keegan's study is a thought-provoking work on the basis of cacical authority and the inter-island connections in the late precolonial Caribbean. Using Las Casas's claim that Caonabo was from the Bahamian archipelago, Keegan endeavors to use ethnohistoric and archaeological methods to identify the possible village site Caonabo came from. Of course, since the sources are problematic and our understanding of Taino worldview less than ideal, Keegan must use potentially misleading or unrepresentative writings on Taino mythology (mainly Pané) to make meaning of the Spanish sources. Indeed, this is a necessity but there is always the danger of generalizing and homogenizing based on Pané's recordings of the specific beliefs of one particular cacicazgo of Hispaniola. Despite these risks, and  the author's recognition of far greater diversity among the peoples of the Taino Interaction Sphere, he still uses Pané (and the interpretations of Taino religion from Stevens-Arroyo's scholarship) heavily to reconstruct the mythic geography of the Taino. Caonabo's alleged origins at a specific site in Middle Caicos requires heavy allegiance to Stevens-Arroyo's work on Pané.

Since Keegan accepts the greater diversity of Taino peoples and the antiquity of ceramics in Cuba and Hispaniola soon after the Saladoid culture reached Puerto Rico, the deeper history of migrations, cultural exchanges, and eventually colonization of the Bahamas is a more complex process than one would think. Indeed, if Keegan is correct about the matrilineal and avunculocal nature of the Taino chiefdoms, perhaps some specific sites in the Bahamas were short-term and long-term settlements meant to provide fish, salt, and shell beads to Hispaniola. Caciques, whose power was at least partly based on marriage alliances with numerous other communities (as well as their ability to communicate with numinous beings), could have been linked to Middle Caicos sites from northern Hispaniola. Marriage alliances could have meant Caonabo was born at the MC-6 site excavated by Sullivan and Keegan, but his mother was from Hispaniola, perhaps Maguana. Caonabo then would have been eligible to succeed to the office of cacique in Hispaniola through his mother's kin, and perhaps would have embodied aspects of a stranger "king" with roots in an island that provided salt and marine resources (or salted fish) to Hispaniola. This remains rather speculative and uncertain, and one still has to consider the reason why Las Casas believed Caonabo rose to position of chiefdom: his military prowess. Perhaps his background on Middle Caicos may have prepared him, or he displayed distinct warrior talent in his early youth after relocating to the cacicazgo of his mother? 

Since so much remains unknown of Caonabo's origins and the Spanish sources, beginning with Columbus, were guilty of creating their own myths and legends of Caribbean indigenous peoples, much remains uncertain. Columbus himself, according to Keegan, was guilty of misunderstanding the Taino reference to the Carib as part of a mythology that also included notions of guanin and an island inhabited only by women. The fact that Columbus was sometimes mistaken to be a Carib himself has apparently escaped critical attention by many scholars. In fact, if the Spanish could also be perceived as Caribs, then the alleged cannibalism of the Caribs should be seen as part of Taino mythic geography. Indeed, perhaps this is why Caonabo, who was not born on Hispaniola, could be referred to as "Carib" by Oviedo and at the same time embody some of the mythic characteristics equated with outsiders. Indeed, Keegan goes even further, suggesting that Caonabo may have cultivated or been associated with Deminan and his 3 brothers (Caonabo was said to have 3 brothers) and possibly was seen as the guardian of the Cave of the Jagua from which humans first arose. In addition, Keegan produces evidence from MC-6 and the site of El Corral de los Indios in today's San Juan de la Maguana to point to certain patterns of astronomically aligned plazas and Taino monuments reflecting the culture's mythology or cosmovision. 

Indeed, the MC-6 appears even more unique in this regard with its own plaza recalling those of Hispaniola. Since Caonabo was ruler of Maguana, and would have been familiar with the plazas of MC-6 and Maguana, one can link him to MC-6 for its exceptional qualities. After all, it is possible that only an exceptional site in the Lucayan islands would have produced someone capable of becoming the most powerful cacique of Hispaniola. And due to his position, Caonabo would have intervened with Guacanagari's chiefdom by destroying La Navidad, in order to protect his own position as the "dominant" stranger king of Hispaniola. Even if Caonabo was, through his mother, actually part of the kinship structure of Maguana or another Hispaniola chiefdom, he was still remote or enough of a stranger to accumulate possible mythological characteristics linked to his political office. He would have felt a strong threat from Columbus as a potential contender, or perhaps someone through whom Guacanagari could have become a threat. Caonabo, already allied with Beheccio through his marriage to Anacaona, may have dominated half of Hispaniola with Jaragua. A newcomer allied with a different cacicazgo could have threatened the political stability of the island.

Perhaps most interesting is the archaeological evidence for cacical authority reflected in sites such as En Bas Saline, MC-6, San Juan de la Maguana. Citing evidence from another archaeologists analysis of En Bas Saline, Keegan presents evidence that the households of caciques were not exempt from the daily tasks and chores of commoner households. Moreover, it is possible that caciques did not actually impose sumptuary restrictions on their population, but monopolized the distribution of luxuries like iguana meat for festivals or feasts. Indeed, it remains unknown to what degree caciques actually controlled production in their polities through tribute or other means. However, caciques must have had access to skilled labor for the production of luxury crafts, communities for long-distance trade or manufacturing of shell-beads and salted fish off Hispaniola, and the construction of elaborate plazas and ballcourts. Undoubtedly, the cacique's rise to supremacy over behiques with regards to contact with the divine through the cohoba ritual was an important aspect of the ideological basis for political authority. As a result, the form of a Taino village and the most elaborate plazas with astronomical alignments for the solstice and Orion must have reinforced the cacique's authority as leader of a community spatially organized in recognition of the cemis. Whether or not this means the most powerful cacicazgos were en route to state formation from a "tribal-tributary" model is up for debate. But one is led to think that at least the matunheri caciques wielded tremendous power. Indeed, some may have even sponsored short-term and long-term colonization in nearby islands to harvest resources for use in Hispaniola.

Thursday, June 15, 2023

Nau and the Caciques of Haiti

Emile Nau’s Histoire des Caciques d'Haiti is justifiably a classic. As elucidated by Francisco Moscoso, the 19th century classic text, despite rarely sharing its sources, presents a compelling historical narrative on the European conquest of the island of Haiti. It is less of a history of precolonial Taino cacicazgos of the island than a harrowing tale of their subjugation and disintegration under colonial rule. Since Nau was part of a literary and intellectual movement espousing Haitian cultural nationalism, he felt it necessary to include the history of the aboriginal Haitians as part of this project. Interestingly, his brother, Ignace, also wrote several nouvelles which reflect a similar Haitian cultural project, albeit one that is more rooted in the African-derived cultural influences and practices of the Haitian countryside of the 19th century. 

That said, it is interesting to recall Ignace Nau’s tale of the rustic monteros of the east, and the fact that the eastern part of the island was once part of Haiti. Moreover, some of the ancestors of today’s Dominicans were considered to have “Indien” or indigenous ancestry. Perhaps claiming the Amerindian past as Haitians was linked to this larger conception of the island’s shared history? Indeed, Nau’s introduction suggests that it was through the fraternal links of suffering enslavement and colonialism that the African and Indian were joined together. Maybe Nau’s Romantic depiction of the indigenous past, one in which the “simple” Indiens were en route to civilization and, in the case of Xaragua, refined and skilled in poetry, was tied to the literary movement of the 1830s, in which Haitian authors sought to use poems and short stories to valorize the land and its diverse peoples?

We know Nau also, despite denying any biological continuity between Haitians and the exterminated indigenous population, also sought to identify Amerindian traits in aspects of Haitian popular culture and language. Such an attempt to do so may be part of this movement to define Haitianite broadly, with Amerindian, African, and European elements. The Taino elements, particularly in poetry, song, and language (deduced to be beautiful by the specimens of the Taino tongue resurrected by Nau, which proves that they were a refined people!) could be reimagined as part of the cultural patrimony of all Haitians. Maybe such a move would also be a common ground for Haitians of all backgrounds to unite, through the landscape, history, literary legacy, and eventual vengeance of the Taino through Haitian independence. 

Unfortunately, due to the time period it was composed and some of the ideological currents and limitations of Haitian Romanticism, Nau’s history presents a number of problems. The author’s admiration for Colombus as a thwarted genius representing science, religion and progress partially undermines the sympathy for the indigenes of Haiti. If Columbus and the Spanish conquest represented a giant leap in terms of expanding Christianity and civilization, and the Indiens were, outside of Xaragua, savages like the Caribs, simple, and lacking effective leaders, then there is a sense of inevitability in their extinction. Naturally, Nau opposed the subjugation by force and outright enslavement and exploitation of aboriginal Haitians. But this is sometimes contradicted by the fulsome praise for Colombus and the three ideals of Christianity, Civilization and Progress represented by European expansion. In other words, Nau was not quite ready to completely discard the Eurocentrism of his intellectual era. He could recognize that the Taino were on the path to civilization, however. La Yaguana or Yaguana, the capital of Xaragua, was said to have had over 1000 houses, which would likely mean it was a town or city with thousands of people. Their “tributary” system of government was able to generate enough resources for caciques and a leisurely class to develop, albeit not yet reaching the level of the Indiens of Mexico and Peru. Unfortunately, the tragedy of history was against them as Spanish expansion preempted fuller development of their societies.

Despite some of its ideological flaws and unclear sources (Charlevoix, Herrera, Las Casas, maybe Oviedo and Irving are some of the few we could identify), Nau’s account is full of interesting allusions to caciques and historical junctures that parallel those of the Haitian Revolution. The capture of Caonabo, for instance, brings to mind the trap used against Toussaint Louverture during the Haitian Revolution. Henry, or Enriquillo, whose refusal to submit for several years, must have reminded Nau and his readers of the familiar maroons of Saint-Domingue. Perhaps even a figure like Goman, who led a long-lasting rebellion against the Republic could be seen as a 19th century equivalent? Or, perhaps more obviously, the Bahoruco maroons of the colonial period who used the same territory of Enriquillo to resist the French. Of course, Nau also explicitly compares Ovando to Rochambeau for his brutality.

Indeed, Ovando’s unprovoked massacre of Xaragua’s elite and execution of Anacaona is surely matched by Rochambeau’s barbaric violence. These parallels must have been rather explicit to Nau, and would have been obvious to him as his brother also wrote short stories of episodes of the Haitian Revolution. Moreover, the magisterial tomes of Madiou and works by other Haitian historians would have facilitated the identification of similar episodes and themes in the history of Indian resistance and the struggle for Haitian independence. Doing so confirms a teleology in which the conquest and destruction of Indian Haiti is avenged through Haiti’s singular struggle for abolition of slavery and restoration of independence. Haiti, under Dessalines, achieved what was impossible for Enriquillo.