Art and mythology of the Taino Indians of the Greater West Indies

Eugenio Fernandez Mendez's Art and Mythology of the Taino Indians of the Greater West Indies is a frustrating read. A short work based on Taino art, mythology and archaeology seen in several examples of Taino art and glimpses from the Spanish chronicles, the author posits a significant Mesoamerican and/or Central American influence on the Taino. The actual chronology of this influence is uncertain, but the author is convinced of various mythological, theogonic and aesthetic similarities between the Taino and Mesoamerica, which presumably can be traced all the way back to the Olmec or proto-Olmec culture. How exactly this influence reached the Greater Antilles, and mainly Puerto Rico and Hispaniola, is unclear. If the general chronology of the rise of chiefdoms with greater political centralization and social differentiation began around 1000-1200 CE for Hispaniola and Puerto Rico, this is long after the Olmec and Classic Maya. However, if Mesoamerican influences may have sprung from an earlier period in the history of the circum-Caribbean, perhaps one in which peoples from the Yucatan, southern Mexico and other areas migrated to or traded with peoples living in the Greater Antilles, perhaps some stylistic and religious practices were transferred to the Taino. And who knows, perhaps the Totonac stone yokes are related to the famous stone collars of pre-Hispanic Puerto Rico. 

There likely were contacts of some sort between the Antilles and Central America and Mesoamerica. Fernandez Mendez cites a number of sources indicating Taino contacts with Florida, northern South America, and Central America in the late 15th and early 16th centuries. These contacts likely existed long before Europeans arrived in the region. That said, there is a huge hole in Fernandez Mendez's theory. If Mesoamerican influences were so important on Taino mythology and art, why is so little evidence of this found in Jamaica and Cuba? We know indigenous people of Jamaica and Cuba likely had some degree of contact with the Yucatan, for example, but why is so little evidence of the influence of Mesoamerican "high" cultures evident on those islands? Why is it that more distant Hispaniola and Puerto Rico, where the most elaborate ballcourts, plazas, stone sculpture, duhos, and cacicazgos were developed, lack any incontrovertible evidence of trade or exchange with Mesoamerica? Did seafarers, traders, priests, and skilled laborers from Mesoamerica or Central America decide to skip most of Cuba and Jamaica because they were backwaters, demographically or culturally? It seems rather more likely that ideas or ritual practices may have reached Puerto Rico and Hispaniola via South America rather than a direct link to Mesoamerica. Fernandez Mendez seems to think otherwise, especially given the lack of elaborate ballcourts in northern South America. 

However, the rest of his argument relies on speculative interpretations of Las Casas, Pane, Oviedo, and other chroniclers and the Spanish sources on Mesoamerican religion and ritual to claim a strong influence of the Maya, Huastecs and others on the Taino. While there definitely are parallels between the religious and mythological world of the Taino and, perhaps, the Aztecs and Maya, one can also find even more numerous direct parallels and ethnolinguistic evidence linking the Taino to the cultures of northern South America. Interpretations of Pane such as those of Arrom and Stevens-Arroyo are more convincing, particularly in that they are better supplied by ethnographic evidence on the indigenous peoples of the Orinoco Basin as well as linguistic, archaeological, and genetic evidence pointing to South America as a primary source of Taino civilization. Of course, this does not mean that there was no influence from Central America and Mexico. Human sacrifice and the religious symbolism of the Taino batey very well could have some degree of Mesoamerican influence which is not evident in the cultures of South America where similar ballgames were played. Unfortunately, Fernandez Mendez's speculative reading of Yocahu and Guabancex in relation to the pantheon of Mesoamerican belief relies too heavily on assumptions on identifying Taino cemis and artifacts with particular gods and attributes which are not verifiable. He proposes a number of interesting hypotheses and notes certain recurring motifs among indigenous peoples in the circum-Caribbean region. Yet some of these similarities are likely archetypes common across many cultures, especially the role of fertility, sun cults, the importance of wind and rain, and divine twins or gods with multiple attributes. He also relies on possibly outdated theories of the hurricane as a deity or deified force.

Whether or not a cultural stream from Mexico reached the Greater Antilles in the 14th century, also spreading to the southeastern US and other areas, actually transpired remains to be proven. Based on Fernandez Mendez's analysis, more work must be done to ascertain the nature of contacts between the Taino and their mainland neighbors to the west. Whether or not the common "fire god" of the Taino and various cultures in Central America can be proven by alleged stylistic conventions shared across time and space raises even more questions that we do not possess sufficient evidence to support. Similarly, do we truly possess enough evidence to claim the behiques of the Taino were ritualists associated with the Moon, the mother goddess and the serpent? Intriguingly, Fernandez Mendez does claim that the jibaros of Puerto Rico retained some interesting traces of their Taino ancestors and predecessors. For instance, the word soco, allegedly the central post in a caney of the Tainos, survived in Puerto Rican Spanish with the same meaning (and sexual connotations). 

Mitología y religion de los taínos

Mitología y religion de los taínos by Sebastian Robiou Lamarche is yet another study of Taino mythology and religion that analyzes Ramón Pané. Building off the pioneering scholarship of Arrom and Robiou Lamarche's past research, the author divides Taino mythology into 4 cycles while offering plausible interpretations of various episodes. The usual themes of the gemelos divinos, the origin of women, Guahayona as a cultural hero, and perhaps astronomical significance of Taino myths are expounded with South American parallels. Unfortunately, we found this essay to be a too similar to other studies of Ramón Pané and Taino mythology to be distinctive. The useful glossary and the distinct visuals and pictures designed by the author's daughter were certainly interesting, however. In short, Taino myth and religion, at least the fragments of it recorded by Ramón Pané and revealed by ethnohistoric and archaeological analysis, demonstrate that Taino religion and cosmovision was central to the established of a hierarchical cacicazgo that developed to its greatest degree in Hispaniola and Puerto Rico. The triad of cohoba, cacique, and cemi were the lynchpins of Taino religion and myth, and all can be said to justify a political order in which the "solarized" cacique emerged supreme. Perhaps one day new sources or studies of Taino material culture and iconography can tell us more about this cosmovision.

Mythology and Prehispanic Antillean Art

Arrom's Mitología y artes prehispánicas de las Antillas was less useful than we initially thought. Perhaps because we read it after absorbing Stevens-Arroyo (who, like Arrom, saw Deminan as our Taino Prometheus), Lopez-Baralt, Robiou-Lamarche and others, who were all clearly influenced by Arrom's important work, much of his seminal study is familiar territory. Nonetheless, Arrom was unquestionably important for expanding our knowledge of "Taino" culture and religion on the eve of Spanish conquest. His analysis of surviving art, together with linguistic data and the chronicles, helps us make sense of the larger Taino cosmovision and social structure. Unlike more recent scholars, Arrom did not benefit from newer anthropological theories on South American indigenous religions and worldviews. However, his detailed breakdown of Pané convincingly identifies some cemis in Taino art and the aesthetic accomplishments of precolonial Caribbean civilization. This clearly establishes the impressiveness of Taino cultures in the Greater Antilles as one of the worthy areas of pre-Columbian civilizations and part of our legacy in the region. Their skills in working with conch, stone, bone and wood reveal expert artisanry and the development of an elaborate society and worldview. Even after the disastrous encounter with Europe, several aspects of their accomplishments survive in modern Caribbean toponyms, spirituality, mythology, agriculture, and material culture.

El mito taino

Mercedes López-Baralt's El mito taíno: raíz y proyecciones en la amazonia continental does an interesting job outlining the various ways in which Taino mythology, as recorded by Ramón Pané, parallels those of the Amazonian region and the northern part of South America. Drawing on ethnographic data and collections of South American Indian myths, López-Baralt convincingly demonstrates how the Taino peoples of the Greater Antilles were deeply immersed in an older, continental civilization based on manioc. Where the Taino differ, however, is in their more developed ceremonialism, the greater social stratification and the role of the shaman as an intermediary between the people and the cemis. 

Despite those differences, perhaps the Taino really were still in that "intermediary" stage of tribal-tributary production, meaning they were in greater proximity to their less politically centralized continental cousins. Perhaps the similarities between the Taino and their mainland Arawak and other "cousins" can unveil some of the ideological, social, and economic features of Taino society? The notion of cyclical time, for example was probably shared by the Taino and South American indigenous populations. This could explain the idea of new generations of humans or rebirths of humanity represented through figures like Guahayona and Deminan. Furthermore, the ubiquity of the female turtle as a symbol of motherhood or the frog as a symbol of fertility in Taino and South American mythology very well could indicate something about the nature of Taino art and the position of women as mothers, objects of raids, and bodies of water. Whether or not some of the myths recorded by Pané could be deduced to explain the rise of patriarchal societies or not seems uncertain at this point. 

However, López-Baralt, like Stevens-Arroyo, is likely correct about some of the larger archetypes and social functions explained or rationalized by Taino myth. These fragments of a larger worldview, fortunately bequeathed to posterity by Pané reveal much about Taino culture of the late 15th century. If only more of the traditions were recorded or described, then we could be in a far better position to understand Taino society. Of course, one must also take into consideration that it was the elite of Taino society who provided information to Pané. What we know of the society thus reflects the ruling ideology and perhaps not the general beliefs of the "commoners" of Taino society. Perhaps the so-called naboria spirituality and religious practice was closer to that of the type encountered in the South American mainland and parts of the Lesser Antilles? 

An Account of the Antiquities of the Indians

While revisiting Griswold's translation of An Account of the Antiquities of the Indians, we were shocked to see mention of a prophecy of clothed foreigners who would overcome the locals, kill, and cause the indigenes to die of hunger. According to Ramón Pané, the indigenous population (presumably from the Cibao region of Hispaniola, where much of Pané's information was gathered?) came to believe the prophecy was a warning of Columbus. Amazingly, within a few decades of their encounter with the Admiral, their population did experience catastrophic suffering and decline. 

That eerily accurate prediction aside, Pané's brief account of the indigenous population's beliefs and practices is astonishing in other ways. Arrom, drawing on Las Casas, Oviedo, and ethnographic and linguistic data from related indigenous populations like the Arawak, shows how complex Taino mythology and religion actually was. For instance, a myth might allude to something like the origin of the sea or the creation of animals. Others, however, reflect their knowledge of astronomy and weather patterns, such that Anacacuya may have represented a mythic representation of the Pole Star. Their myths also have parallels with Arawak, Carib, and other indigenous societies of South America, suggestive of deep antiquity and possible etymologies of names for mythic places. Some of this remains speculative, naturally, but helps the reader understand some of the metaphors, symbols, and social practices misunderstood by Pané.

If, despite their limitations, sources such as An Account of the Antiquities of the Indians remain indispensable for reconstructing the history of the indigenous Caribbean, one must know how to "read" through the colonial and Christian biases. Arrom's careful footnotes do an excellent job in this regard, thereby showing how one can use colonial sources to reconstruct the history of the Taino of Hispaniola (and the Greater Antilles). One can also begin to see more clearly the numerous ways in which elements of the indigenous cultures survived the conquest and went on to play a major role in the development of the colonial-era peasantries in the Spanish Caribbean. They may have lost the behiques, zemis, caciques, and most of the religion, but inherited several other aspects of the indigenous legacy. 

Taino Myth and South America

Ricardo Alegria's Apuntes en torno a la mitología de los indios taínos de las antillas mayores y sus orígenes suramericanos is yet another study of Taino mythology using a comparative approach with South American lowland peoples. Given the fragmented nature of our understanding of Taino mythology, relying mainly on Ramón Pané  and the usual Spanish sources, one can see the advantages of an approach incorporating data from extant South American indigenous peoples. The analogies, parallels, and even repetition of the same motifs in Taino and South American mythology certainly supports it, too. In order to demonstrate this, Alegria focuses on myths about the origins of humanity, the beginning of women, divine twins, and tales of the flood or deluge. Using Pané as the basis, as well as Pedro Martir, Ulloa, and the work of Levi-Strauss and others who collected and analyzed South American myths, Alegria illustrates the mainly South American tropical origin of the Taino.

As one might expect from the linguistic, archaeological, and ethnographic evidence indicating South American origins (at least for Saladoid expansion, which seems to have included cohoba ritual paraphernalia and a specific ceramics tradition to the Antilles), Taino myth shares much of its references to cultural heroes, social norms, and ritual-religious processes with indigenous peoples across the tropical lowlands. Venezuela, Guyana, and even Brazilian indigenous peoples like the Tupi can be seen to share some of the same mythological lore. For instance, tales of the origin of women across the region refer to figures carved of stone who gain female genitalia through a wood-pecker bird. This, of course, also appears in the myths collected by Pané in Hispaniola. Moreover, several South American indigenous groups posit very similar origins of humanity. Indeed, several peoples believed humans lived in a subterranean world and only entered the surface through caves (for a notable exception, Caribs appear to have believed humans descended from the sky). They were often led out of the caves through a cord that breaks, leaving some in the other world. Those familiar with Pané can also find a similar example from Hispaniola, where humans were believed to have arose from caves. 

In addition, belief in divine twins who become culture heroes for establishing traditions and sharing their knowledge with posterity are also incredibly common. In nearly all the myths mentioned here, the divine twins are born of a woman whose husband abandons or leaves her. The father of her sons is often the Sun. After beginning a journey to take her unborn sons to meet their father, the mother is killed or faces misfortune due to a jaguar or ogro or other being. The killer of the mother then raises the twins who, after learning or mastering the skills of fire, casabe or proper behavior, seek vengeance for their mother. While several South American peoples believed these divine twins later became the Sun and the Moon, and/or one twin was brilliant and the other was a fool, the Taino myth from Hispaniola instead features 4 twin sibling (representing the four winds or cardinal directions?). Born to the same mother and an unnamed father (the Sun?), the only divine twin named is Deminan. Deminan and his brothers fulfil a similar role to Taino society as the divine twins in South American myths. Indeed, they play a pivotal role in the origins of the sea through knocking over the calabash containing Yayael. They also, through the female turtle that emerges from Deminan's back, may have become ancestors to a new generation of humans through their children with the turtle. As mentioned previously, allusions to an ancient flood that once covered the land or explains the origin of the sea also appears in Taino and South American myth.

While some of the similarities between Taino and tropical South American myth can be construed as a result of archetypes, the numerous parallels and variations of the same few details point to a distant shared past. The Taino, as explained by Alegria, would have had to modify South American traditions due to the different environment and fauna of the Greater Antilles. They were also several centuries removed from their ancient South American origins when their traditions were recorded in the 1490s. Despite the distances in time and geography, it is astonishing to see how deeply immersed South American lowland cultural traditions must have been in time. The ritual and social complex of shamanism, cohoba (or similar drug paraphernalia), and yuca culture diffused across northeastern South America along the rivers in the era preceding Saladoid expansion into the Caribbean. While some of the similarities between the Taino and their South American cousins may also be a result of later trade and migration that connected the Greater Antilles to the continent via the Lesser Antilles, the similarities across a vast region of South America suggest a far deeper antiquity. If approached cautiously, this reservoir of data can fill in some of the huge gaps in our understanding of Taino history and cultural development. 

Taino Myth of the Cursed Creator

 

This short video brings to life one of the Taino creation stories reported in an account of the Indians of Hispaniola written by Fray Ramón Pané. The written account, based on his experiences on the island in the 1490s, is obviously much closer to the source material. Yet, it has its problems, too. Pané's cultural bias, disdain for Taino religion and healers, language barriers, and passion for converting what he saw as heatens produces a plethora of problems. Still, anyone who wants to reconstruct the culture, beliefs, and practices of the indigenous population of Hispaniola must use these sources in some form. His account has undoubtedly influenced the above video segment retelling the origin of the sea with beautiful artwork.

Cave of the Jagua

Antonio Stevens-Arroyo's Cave of the Jagua: The Mythological World of the Taínos is an essential read for its creative approach to reconstructing the religion and mythology of the indigenous peoples of the Greater Antilles. Building on Arrom's reconstruction and analysis of the Relación acerca de las antigüedades de los indios, Stevens-Arroyo brings a new approach inspired by Lévi-Strauss's structuralism and comparative religious studies. This method, which can fill in the gaps of the Relación through identifying likely missing elements, may not always lead to a correct conclusion. Thus, we may disagree with him on the origin of the caney coming from the turtle that grew out of Deminan's back or the relationship between Guahayona and Guabonito. But, the possible advantages of this approach can outweigh the risks by filling in the lost or missing details of the Relación.

For example, a comparative approach with related South American indigenous peoples and even global mythology and religion reveals the ways in which Taino religion relied on analogical thinking, dualism of the Fruitful and Inversion spirits, and was part of a larger cosmovision reflecting their insular environment. Moreover, the possible identification of particular cemis in Taino art across Hispaniola and Puerto Rico serves as additional evidence that the Relación reflected the beliefs of more Taino groups than the ones Fray Ramón Pané lived amongst. Of course, one would have to follow more recent publications in Taino Studies to see to what extent the theoretical model proposed here has been supported by the evidence across the Greater Antilles. Perhaps, for example, Stevens-Arroyo is inaccurate in referring to the Taino chiefdoms as reaching a "harvesting economy" stage. Or the characterization of cacical authority may have been modified by later research on the nature of authority and the role of the cacique system and the cemi. Of course, it does seem clear that cacique and cemi were linked, the cacique probably did have something to do with the Sun, guanin, and the rise of greater social divisions with chiefly political leaders, behique shamans, an upper class and the laboring masses. Through the journey of the hero, Guahayona, one can see mythological explanations for the social order of cacical authority. 

We suspect that the denseness of the text and the references to Lévi-Strauss, Jungian psychoanalysis or complex religious and anthropological vocabulary may scare potential readers of this book. It is unfortunate, since it is likely that some elements of Taino religion have survived to this day in the Cuba, Puerto Rico, and the Dominican Republic. Stevens-Arroyo has not presented the strongest evidence of this in terms of Haiti and Afro-Caribbean religions because Maya Deren seems to have been the main source on Vodou, but it is probable that some indigenous elements survive in Spanish Caribbean popular religion. A comparative approach with African and Afro-Caribbean religious traditions might be necessary, however, to ascertain the degree to which Taino elements have persisted. The so-called Black Caribs might represent an interesting group for comparison of the other two systems, as it fuses elements of Island Carib (and probably Taino) elements with African-derived traditions. If done well, an analysis of that nature might reveal more clearly the distinct indigenous traditions that have survived. It could also shed light on popular culture, the Trickster, and whether or not the cultural hero of popular Caribbean society is more of an extrovert, introvert (Deminan) or centrovert (Guahayona).