Pacariqtambo and Mythohistory

In our effort to familiarize ourselves with more scholarship on the Incas and precolonial Peru, we read Urton's The History of a Myth: Pacariqtambo and the Origins of the Inkas. A short study, Urton's work seems to follow more in the footsteps of Zuidema, opting for a more structuralist approach to the Spanish chronicles and sources on the pre-conquest past of Peru. In our understanding, Urton argues that the origin myth of the Incas from the caves of Pacariqtambo were "concretized" and "historicized" based on very specific conditions related to colonial society in the 1560s and 1570s, particularly the period of Viceroy Toledo's rule. In short, some of the Pacariqtambo area caciques (such as the Callapina family, on 3 different occasions in colonial Peru) argued their descent from Manco Capac and other Inca nobility through a "reworking" of the "mythohistorical" narratives/traditions of Pacariqtambo as containing the caves from which Manco Capac and the early ayllus of Cuzco first arose. His argument is plausible since Indians who could "prove" their noble descent were exempted from taxes and personal service to Spaniards. So some descendants of old kuraka and provincial Incas by privilege likely did engage in some "creative" genealogical reconstructions of their lineages. 

We, however, were a little lost or perplexed by some of Urton's additional arguments. For instance, when he tries to connect the widowed woman who helped Pachacuti defeat the Chancas and save Cuzco to an ancestor of the first Callapina who petitioned to have his noble status recognized in 1569. Is the evidence sufficient to link one of his named ancestors in that 1569 document to a woman who, assuming she did exist, lived in the 1400s and became part of the "mythohistorical" narratives of Pachacuti's victory over the Chancas? It is possible, but we increasingly enter into more uncertain terrain. The final chapters of the book explore the ethnographic present and modern ritual travel/pilgrimage, speculating on how the religiously syncretistic nature of today's Pacariqtambo ayllus and celebrations of the saints may reflect past ayllu-connected rituals regarding kinship and the origin of the Incas. Again we have less evidence to draw from, but it does appear that the ayllus of today's Pacariqtambo have rituals tied to the reworking of their pre-Hispanic past and Catholic saints, rituals. Moreover, Urton does seem to be right that the exact "location" of Pacaritambo and the modern area bearing that name didn't seem to become concrete until 1569-1571, and that some of the Cuzco Inca noble witnesses of the first Callapina were also informants of Sarmiento de Gamboa for his chronicle on the Incas. But without more familiarity with his more detailed ethnographic work on the indigenous peoples of Pacariqtambo today, it was a little harder to see how exactly it supports the earlier chapters in the text. 

Nevertheless, reading this has challenged us to finally engage the works of Zuidema and Urton on the Incan and precolonial past of Peru. Our own bias in favor the "Rowe" model has definitely precluded us from fully considering the colonial context in which the aforementioned "mythohistorical" narratives of Inca origins were first written down in the 1500s and 1600s. But if the traditions about Pachacuti's interest in history and consolidating a "standard" narrative are accurate, perhaps we are all in one form or another acolytes of the Pachacuti school of Inca history. The degree to which it is acceptable more as "myth" versus history depends on context and was probably always in flux, depending on the narrator and audience. Our misfortune today is we lack a full understanding of how amauta and quipu-readers conceived of historicity, although we suspect that the most recent of the Inca emperors were more definitively historical figures rather than mythologized ones like those recalled in the chronicle of Montesinos. 

Ollanta: An Ancient Ynca Drama

Markham's undoubtedly dated translation of Ollanta: An Ancient Ynca Drama from 1871 is an interesting read. Firmly believing that the play was preserved orally from precolonial times, probably during the reign of Topa Inca Yupanqui or Huayna Capac, Markham sees the play as one of the few or only surviving theatrical works from the time of the Incas. Indeed, we know from sources such as Garcilaso de la Vega and the eventual colonial suppression of it after Tupac Amaru's rebellion that theatrical works from and about the Inca past were preserved. Sadly, the version of Ollanta, here based on the surviving manuscripts written down in the 1700s and 1800s, appear to be a condensed or incomplete version. Inexplicably, ten years pass before the eventual reunion of the lovers Ollanta and Cusi Coyllur. The battles between the general sent by the Inca to defeat Ollanta after his revolt are quickly glossed over. One would think that the original narrative included more scenes or episodes for a fully fleshed story. The play also seems to contain an implicit critique of Pachacuti for his excessive punishment of his daughter yet the Inca is presented as the source of all moral authority and order. Why is it that his son, the Topa Inca Yupanqui, who eventually pardons Ollanta for his revolt in Antisuyu and promotes him to the highest rank, is presented as the complete opposite? Is the message here that the Incas were not infallible, and access to the higher ranks could be opened, rarely, to those without aristocratic backgrounds if they proved their merit?

Felipe Guaman Poma de Ayala's Chronicle

The partial English translation of Felipe Guaman Poma de Ayala's massive chronicle, translated by Roland Hamilton, is a fascinating read. Although the entirety of the text is not available in English, Hamilton's translation covers the precolonial history of Peru as presented by an indigenous writer to the king of Spain. Unfortunately, the original text probably could have benefited from an editor, but the author bequeathed to posterity an unparalleled intellectual work of indigenous intellectual production in Peru, Latin America and the Americas. As part of the Catholic Indian elite, Guaman Poma's chronicle reflects the contradictory tendencies of colonial indigenous peoples with a foot in both the precolonial past and the colonial present. While he consistently criticized the Spanish colonial regime for its abuses of Indians and the spread of moral, sexual, and criminal vices brought by the Spanish, the author also sought to fix the precolonial past of the Incas into Biblical genealogies and history. 

The Inca, despite bearing responsibility for the spread of idolatry and worship of huacas across Peru, were also responsible for sound laws, a just social order, and a harmonious system in which people knew their place. Furthermore, Guaman Poma came from a provincial family, not Cuzco or the Inca royalty, like El Inca Garcilaso de la Vega. Thus, his view on the pre-conquest Peruvian imperial government reflects a provincial and Christian view of the indigenous past. While simultaneously praising Christianity and expressing admiration for the Spanish monarchy, our chronicler is also presenting the Inca as the upholders of a superior system of justice, despite their idolatry. This ambivalent position of Guaman Poma probably also reflected the interests of his social class as they sought to protect or pursue positions of authority in colonial Peru. By presenting the Inca imperial past as one with a more just arrangement of society, and exaggerating the importance of his own lineage within that system, Guaman Poma was undoubtedly arguing for more power for those like himself in colonial society.

According to Hamilton, the chronicle's structure was likely influenced by quipu, the system of recording information using strings and knots. The translator suggests that Guaman Poma's penchant for long lists to describe the emperors, queens, nobility, age divisions, social classes, and epochs was probably a product of the quipu system. Indeed, this is probably true, since Guaman Poma must have relied on both quipu and oral traditions to construct a narrative of the Inca past. Although this sometimes makes for rather dull reading, some amazing levels of details and narrative elaboration breathes life into ancient rulers and personages of Tawantinsuyu. Despite his own provincial and Catholic biases and the attempt to prolong the history of the Inca imperial line to encompass over 2000 years, Guaman Poma de Ayala's presentation of this past undoubtedly presents it as superior to the corruption and excessive exploitation of the colonial system. Unlike his contemporary society, the Incas suppressed crime, sexual excess and libertinage, promoted virginity and chaste living, protected the poor and disabled, and supported institutions like nunneries. In spite of their idolatry and the alleged origins of the Inca monarchs with a sorceress who married her son, aspects of this past were deemed superior to those of the colonial Spanish and were used for a scathing critique of the the Peru of the late 16th and early 17th centuries. Given the intended audience for Guaman Poma's chronicle, one wonders how he would have written the history of the Incas for local audiences and what a Blas Valera or El Inca Garcilaso would have made of him. 

And last but certainly not least, a possible connection to the Antilles may be evident in some of the customs of Indian populations described by Guaman Poma. Although he sometimes exaggerated the extent of the Inca Empire, even going so far as to claim Panama and Santo Domingo (Hispaniola) were part of it, one interesting custom of burying the dead with gold, silver and coca inserted into the mouth of the deceased stood out. Indeed, some of the most elaborate and precious precolonial Caribbean duhos or stools once featured gold-encrusted mouths. While only one specimen with the gold still intact survives, one wonders if the Taino practice of inserting gold into the mouth of zoomorphic or anthropomorphic faces of duhos could possibly be a remnant of a similar practice with the burial customs of some South American Indians? Instread of doing it for the dead, however, the Taino practiced the same custom for duhos, whose carved faces must have had some religious and spiritual connotations due to the use of duhos for cohoba ceremonies.